


We Move Lightly

by ofhoneyandrosepetals



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2019-04-27
Packaged: 2019-09-17 13:49:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 21,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16975767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ofhoneyandrosepetals/pseuds/ofhoneyandrosepetals
Summary: Y/N moved back in with her parents, after 7 years of taking care of her grandparents in another town. She had no idea how her neighbors would be, or who would they be, or even that she would fall in love with one of them.Originally published on Tumblr.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted a fluffy Ivar (modern!, preferably). Of course his temper is not going to be ignored, but he’s not going to be a bloody creature. I hope you like it!

Your neighbors were screaming again. For the third time. In only one hour. In that rhythm you would never finish your research paper. You took a deep breath, preparing your lungs and throat.

But, at the same time that you put yourself half out of the window, you heard a scream, a terrifying one. Their front door is slammed and you see one of the brothers going out, looking very pissed. You couldn’t tell which one of them he was; as far as you know they are four, or five, and one of them is a “cripple”.

As you had heard them screaming that.

And gosh, you hated them.

You and your parents used to live close by your grandparents, but due to your father’s work you’d have to live in another town, very far. As the lovely woman you are - or, back at that time, girl -, you decided to stay with your grandparents, to take care of them.

You were only 13 years old.

Grandpa died when you were 15, but grandma lived for 5 more years.

Now, with the age of 20 and no grandparents to take care of, you had no reason to stay there, all alone, far from your parents; it was time to move back in with them, in that town: Kattegat.

In the very first moment you put your feet in your new front yard, you heard them screaming, and that pissed the shit out of you.

_ What have I done? _ , you had thought.

Their mother, Aslaug, often came to your house to spend some time with your mom.

You tried to avoid her as much as you could, not because of  _ her _ , of course, but because of her sons and what they represented to you.

But that was easy: you had college excuses, so you only saw Aslaug once; she was incredibly gorgeous, and it was impossible that that woman had 4 kids and raised them all.

But that day you were home alone - mom went to groceries and dad was travelling with the company.

The doorbell rang, and so you had to open the door.

The man who stood there was handsome; you could see in his eyes that he was aged, but he seemed young. His eyes were deeply light blue.  _ It’s so blue, so light _ , you thought.

“Is your mom home?” the man asked, taking you out of your daze.

“What?” you blinked. “No. Why, who are you?”

“I’m Ragnar. Ragnar Lothbrok. I live… just there,” and he pointed to his house; it was only yours and his house at the cul-de-sac, meaning one thing.

That Aslaug was Aslaug Lothbrok, and that Ragnar was the father of those screaming demons.

When you were about to complain on the yellings you saw your mom’s car coming. Ragnar followed your gaze and ran to your mom’s direction. You could hear them talking.

“The boys got into a fight -  _ again _ \- and Sigurd left, angry. Aslaug is freaking out that he might do something stupid, so me and the boys are going after him. Do you mind to stay with her, keep her company, to peace her soul?”

Your mom didn’t seem to think twice before answering.

“No, not at all; sure, I’ll go. Y/N’s going with me, right Y/N?”

Ragnar and your mom looks at you. You bit your bottom lip.

“Sure, yeah.”

Ragnar smiled, thanking, and his smile shattered your body, completely.

*

By agreeing with your mom on going to the Lothbrok’s house, you broke several rules of your list.

1: to never, ever, step on their yard.

2: to enter in that house that kept so many screams? Not a chance.

And so you were there, looking to their front door, waiting for Aslaug.

She and your mom hugged tightly. It was clear that Aslaug has been crying.

You broke your third rule without even thinking about it first.

3: never ask about their lives.

“What happened, Aslaug? If you don’t mind me asking, of course…” Aslaug smiled.

“The boys were fighting, as usual, but… this time, Sigurd got very angry…”

Your mom put an arm around Aslaug’s shoulders and conducted her to the entrance hall.

It was a big house, filled with antique things and photos.

You thought that Aslaug wouldn’t mind if you took a look around.

*

The house was incredible, with all its splendor, but it was already 9pm and you wanted to go home when something got your attention.

It was a door, a simple one, but it had hanged a crest with two crossed daggers.

You got paralyzed and your hand was going to the doorknob, slowly; the world had died for you, and all what matters is your curiosity and what that door was hiding.

But, when you heard a door shutting strongly, you woke up and immediately put your hand back, running down the stairs, almost hitting on someone, who got your left shoulder.

“Wow, easy…” a giggle.

You look up and your eyes met his.

Blue.

Not as blue as Ragnar’s, but still very blue. Dark blue and deep enough to let you with the stars, to the moon and back.

“Huh… Are you okay? Is there something on my face? You seem a little hazy…”

“Oh, sorry, I’m fine, just… You surprised me, right downstairs, I was running, so…”

“So a cripple always scares, right?” he says with a little laugh.

In fact, you don’t get what he meant by that, so you just ask:

“What?”

His expression of joy fades away and now he seems bewildered.

“Shit, I’m sorry, I’m used with jokes like this with my brothers…”

While he’s talking you decide to look at him and not his eyes. He’s using a crutch that you didn’t see before, and all made sense.

_ He have great arms _ , you think.

Shaking your head to stop those thoughts, you decide it’s time to leave.

“Hey, whatever your name is…”

“Ivar.”

“I really should get going. My mom is friend of yours…”

“Yeah, I know.”

“And you found your brother, right? So, I should go…”

You start walking fast to the front door and, when you opened it, you hear Ivar asking:

“What’s your name?”

You turn around to see him looking at you, deeply. With a deep breath, you answer quickly.

“Y/N,” and the door shut behind you.

Fourth rule was broken.

Tell any of them your name.


	2. Chapter 2

“Am I going mad?” you ask to yourself while looking to your ceiling. “I think I might be going mad.”

“Honey?” your mom knocks three times. “Who are you talking to?”

“To God.”

It was a joke between you two. Your grandma, mom of your mom, the one you used to live with, was known to say that, when someone was talking to themselves, the person was actually talking to God, in a hidden pray.

Neither you nor your mother saw much of a sense in that.

“Can I come in?”

“Always.”

Your mom brought with her her sweetest smile and a plate of chocolate chip cookies. You immediately sat and grabbed one cookie.

“That was something with the Lothbroks, don’t you think?”

Biting your cookie, you answer: “the fight?” Your mom nods her head. “Well, their life is based upon screams, so I don’t know,” you clean your hands on your blanket and your mom complains between laughs. You laugh too.

“Sigurd was mad about their,  _ his _ mother. They were arguing about that.”

“Oh,” that’s all what you say, all you can manage.

“You don’t really care, right sweetie?” You shrug. 

“It’s just not of my business.”

“You’ve always been like that,” your mom touches your hair, smiling. “I saw you and Ivar talking. Was he nice?”

“Yeah, why he wouldn’t be?”

“You seemed a bit scared.”

“He appeared all of a sudden, out of nowhere. I was distracted.”

You and your mom chit chatted a little bit more, about your research paper, about when your father would be back and how good the cookies were.

But with various things to dream of, you dreamed about Ivar’s eyes.

*

It wasn’t a surprise you woke up with Ice-Cream-Desire. You called like that because your father called like that. And your father called like that because it was a family thing; someone one day would have that strong desire of ice cream, and nothing could stop The Journey. The Journey is when you would go get your ice cream.

Your family was silly, you knew, and that’s what made them the best.

It was Sunday and you could feel the smell of barbecue coming from the Lothbroks’ backyard.

That smell gave you courage to get up from the comfort of your bed and pillows and go to The Journey.

You put on the lightest clothes - it was spring, after all -, warned your mom where you were heading and grabbed your little green backpack, placing it between your shoulder blades.

You were walking, feeling and enjoying the hot air, the sun warming your skin, feeling and seeing the light, even with closed eyes, when someone greets you.

“Hey, neighbor!”

Surprised, you open your eyes to look.

It was one of Ragnar’s sons, but you couldn’t tell which, but it wasn’t Ivar.

He had long and dark blonde hair and a playful eyes and smile. He looked at you as if about to undress you.

“Hey,” you manage, trying to pass the message:  _ fuck off _ .

But you couldn’t help it: you saw he was carrying lots and lots of boxes. Boxes that were full of Legos.

*

A bowl full of ice cream; that’s what you needed to continue to watch the Lothbroks playing with those Legos.

They were what?, 20 to 25 years old maybe? Why on Earth would they be playing with that?

All of them had Lego swords and were fighting with them, every and each beat making an explosion of Legos, destroying the swords.

They were laughing, pure joy printed on their faces.

All over their yard you could see a fortress which, of course, was built of Legos.

Then you saw Ivar; you haven’t noticed him, at least not yet. He also had a sword and was crawling among the fortress, destroying it, screaming. It was clear it was part of the play, because one of his brothers started to fight with him, laughing.

All of that was too weird and funny, but you’ve had enough.

Even though of Ivar crawling on the ground, you somehow found that cute.

*

You took the book you’re currently reading outside, along with a glass of lemonade. Summer vacations were close, and nothing better to get in the mood with The Body, by Stephen King. You laid down on the grass of your backyard, belly down, feet wrapped up in the air. At some point, the sprinklers got to their work, leaving water drops marks on the yellowed pages of your book.

The Lothbroks brothers were still engaged in their Lego play and sometimes, besides the birds singing, you could hear their laugh and screams - those you classified as good ones, because they were screams of joy, or as part of the play, or simply because they needed to be overheard over all that mess of a sound.

You were so concentrated in your plot, Gordon running from that dog, trying as hard as he could to keep his balls in place, that you didn’t notice - after all, how could you? - Hvitserk climbing the wood fence that kept your houses separate. You only knew that that had happened when you heard the sound of someone landing on ground, followed by an “ _ ouch _ ”. With that, you look up.

You see a guy, about your age, a little older, standing in front of you, wearing a devilish grin. You recognized him as the guy early in the day with the boxes full of Legos. An urge to scream filled your body, but only one thing kept it down: the Lego sword in the guy’s hand. That was too ridiculous to be true. You kept a blank stare.

“Yo, neighbor!” the guy greeted you.  _ Yo? Really? _ , you think, raising your eyebrows. “Second time today, huh?” you frown your brow, clearly annoyed, but he didn’t seemed to notice it, or prefered to ignore it. “Watcha reading there?”

You close your book, making sure the cover wasn’t visible to his eyes. “You wouldn’t like it,” a playful smile starts to grow in his lips. “Look, I’ll probably break a rule right now-”

“A rule?” he furrowed his brow but you ignore it and continue.

“ _ But _ ,” you get up on your feet. “Since you, basically, invaded my ‘land’, I should at least know who you are.”

“Are you asking my name, neighbor?” it was so clear what his expression meant that you were about to lose your patience - as if by the fact that he  _ landed _ in your yard wasn’t enough. 

“Oh my god,” you roll your eyes; chin ups, hands covering your face, you sigh and adds under your hands: “Just get out. Please.”

“I need to do something first,”  _ what? _

“What?” you uncover your face, staring at him.

“I’m Hvitserk, by the way,” he was going to the end of your yard, just by the corner, where you could see a little bunch of scrambled earth.

“By the way? There’s no ‘by the way’ situation here,” you started to lose it.

If, when you first heard they fighting, screaming, you had imagined that  _ this  _ would happen, you would have already built a tall brick wall, replacing that wood fence.

Hvitserk was now on his knees on the grass, starting to dig the spot.

“ _ What  _ are you doing?!” he ignored you, and when he stood up, with something in his hands, you didn’t even bothered to see what it was - actually, you couldn’t give less of a shit -, because you completely lost it. “Oh my  _ fucking _ god, get out! Get out of  _ my fucking yard _ !” You were pushing him to the fence, fisting him everywhere you could. He was already climbing the fence.

“Ow, ow, alright,” he laughed a little. When he was about to get into his side, you grabbed his shin and simply pushed him to his side, to make it faster. “Oh,  _ shit _ ,” you heard him swear and then falling heavily.

You turned your back, supporting yourself against the fence, passing your hands through your face. What the hell was that? You could hear the Lothbroks boys celebrating, but one of them sweared, a tone of impatience and anger. Then you heard one simple knock on the wood plank and you turned your head, even though you couldn’t see who was on the other side, of course.

“I’m sorry about that,” you thought it was Ivar’s voice, but you couldn’t be sure, since you had spoken to him only once and it was very quick.

Making a bun, you took a deep breath and your book - left on the ground -, going back inside, calling for your mom.

*

With the incident that took place in the last week and what had just happened, somehow you couldn’t no longer ignore that family. In fact, it grew some curiosity inside of you about them, even though Hvitserk got in your nerves.

It’s time to make some questions to your mom.

You find her by the kitchen, making pancakes. You didn’t even needed to ask why, because this is a normal thing. Your mom is a big supporter of the cause “Breakfast Food Anytime During the Day.” “What if I want to eat pancakes during the afternoon? What stops me?” she had said once. “Nothing really stops you, mom,” you told her. After that, your mom often would make pancakes at any time. At that moment, that precious woman was making your favorite: chip chocolate pancakes.

You decided to first tell her what happened before asking about the Lothbroks’ life.

“Hey, mom. I just saw Hvitserk, huh… How can I say that?” you mom looked at you. “He climbed our fence and then digged something… in  _ our  _ yard…”

“Oh yeah, Ubbe asked me for permission! It’s for their Sunday thing, it’s part of their game. Like a treasure, something like that. They like to bond.”

“Couldn’t you, I don’t know, tell me that? Hvitserk scared the shit out of me.”

“I’m sorry, honey, I thought you would be out for the whole day. I didn’t expected you to come home any soon, specially with that sun and sky… I thought you would go visit a museum or other thing like that.”

You bit your bottom lip and nodded, staying in silence, watching your mom while she cooked.

“So, mom…” you start again, sitting at the island kitchen.

“I know this voice tone…” she smiles. You laugh.

“What does Ragnar Lothbrok works with?”

“He works in a Maritime companion. Actually, he owns it. It’s a pretty famous one. Importation, exportation… these kind of things.”

“And Aslaug?”

“She takes care of its finances. That’s how they met, actually - Ragnar and Aslaug.”

“But she seems to be always home.”

“After Ivar’s birth she got a home office, to ease things. They are very close.”

“Ivar and Aslaug? Yeah, I can imagine that. Do you know anything about the others?”

“Wow, Y/N, what happened?” Your mom look at you with playful eyes. “Got intrigued by them, huh? They’re all very handsome…”

“ _ Mom _ .”

“Okay, okay. Ubbe is the oldest. He works with Ragnar and is the most likely to heir the company. And when I say with Ragnar, I mean alongside. In Law talking, Ubbe is a partner; all of his sons work there, but Ubbe got the most important position between them - even won from Ragnar’s first-born. I don’t know much about Hvitserk, but Sigurd studies Music and every two months is in a different band.”

Your mom did a pause to serve you the pancakes; you waited patiently, since you didn’t want to ask about Ivar - it would get obvious.

“And then there’s Ivar. If I recall well, he studies some kind of Engineering. He makes projects to a close friend of Ragnar, as an internship. This Ragnar’s friend does some gigs for the company, I think.”

“You know a lot about them, mom.”

“You just forgot I’m very close to Aslaug,” she winks.

*

It was already late at night and you were getting prepared to sleep, looking at your window.

The room that took place right in front of yours got its lights on. You didn’t know to whom the room was, but then you see Ivar coming in, crutch in one hand, Lego sword in another. He yawned and scratched his nape with the tip of the Lego sword.

You took a look on their backyard: it was a mess of colourful blocks.

When you looked back to Ivar’s window, he was looking at you, astonished.

Your heart started to race.

_ Why? _ , you thought.

Ivar smiled, shyly, and waved a hand at you. That was the sword’s hand and, when you saw that coloured thing waving at you, you burst out laughing, without even thinking twice.

Ivar’s expression was confused, but soon enough he realized the reason you were laughing, and dropped the toy. He looked around him, embarrassed, but looking back at you in the end.

You smiled gently and closed your curtains, slowly.

The last thing you saw was Ivar smiling, looking down.

Yes, your heartbeat was definitely faster.


	3. Chapter 3 - Ivar's POV

Ivar woke up that day wanting to hide himself. He knew you saw him and his brothers playing around, like a bunch of morons. They’ve always done that, and not even time could take its fun away. Every time he remembered seeing you by the window, looking at him and him waving at you and then you laughing, his entire face would go red. Ivar couldn’t stop thinking  _ what does she think of me? _

He stretched his legs. They seemed to be okay today; summer was coming, and his legs worked just fine (enough) on hot and not-humid days. Sometimes he wouldn’t feel pain at all, and those days were precious to him.

Although, he still would have to use at least his cane today.

Ivar was crazy about that cane; it was handmade by Floki, his friend and the closest friend of his father, Ragnar, since always, since they were born. Floki was an engineer, but he loved to craft things with his own bare hands.

When the Lothbrok family first discovered that Ivar had days that he could walk just fine using a cane, he and his father went in a discussion.

_ “Floki could make a raven head for its top,” Ragnar said. Ivar rolled his eyes. He was fifteen. _

_ “I want a dragon head, father. Just like my arm ring, so they could match.” _

_ “But the raven is our family’s symbol. It’s in our crest.” _

_ “So why don’t  _ you _ put it in  _ your _ cane?” Ivar responded. _

_ “Because I don’t need one,” _

_ “That day is coming soon, old man!” Hvitserk shouted from the other side of the living room. Ubbe laughed and Ragnar looked at them, trying to look intimidating, but completely failing; he loved those boys so much. He turned back to Ivar. “What part of ‘family’ and ‘crest’ you didn’t get?” _

_ Ivar puffed his cheeks out. “What part of  _ my  _ cane and  _ my  _ legs you didn’t get yet?” Ragnar crossed his arms and tossed himself on the couch, legs on coffee table. _

_ “Feet out!” Aslaug screamed from somewhere. Ragnar looked playfully at his sons. “How does she  _ always  _ know?” _

_ “She never get me,” Hvitserk said, shrugging, and put his legs on the table. _

_ “Hvitserk!” Aslaug shouted in a warning tone. Ubbe lost his shit of laughing. And yes, he and Hvitserk started to punch each other. _

_ When Ragnar turned his attention back to Ivar, the boy’s eyes were locked on his father. “Oh, so we’re doing that?” Ivar didn’t moved a muscle. _

_ Ivar loved his father, and Ragnar loved his youngest son, but this didn’t stopped them to have different ways to think and to discuss. So, when they couldn’t get to an agreement, they would do this stare game. Ragnar never loses, except for his son -  _ the youngest _. This is something he would never accept. _

_ Minutes had passed, total silence. Ubbe and Hvitserk couldn’t get their eyes out of Ivar and Ragnar, and Aslaug was already sensing something strange - the silence. Their eyes burned, and this time no one could point which one’s eyes were more blue, brighter. _

_ And then, all of a sudden, Ivar screamed, so loudly and furiously, making Ragnar almost have a heart attack, kicking and flipping the coffee table. “Holy  _ shit _.” _

_ “What’s going on?” Aslaug asked. “Nothing, mom!” Ubbe answered. _

_ Ivar laughs while his father is trying to catch his breath back. “Dragon, motherfucker.” _

Ivar looked to his arm ring and reached out for his cane, which was made out of silver and iron. He caressed the dragon’s head, feeling its coldness, before going downstairs.

The bedroom downstairs was built specially for Ivar, but after years of Sigurd bratting about it, because he wanted to be alone and distant, they switched rooms. Ivar didn’t mind when it came about stairs (most days), after all, the weapon room was upstairs, and Ivar felt proud and in peace with himself, less frustrated, when he accomplished the stairs task.

Since that day, the day you bumped into him, there was no place in his house that didn’t make him think of you (you could have went anywhere, he thought), mainly the stairs, that specific spot between it and the entrance hall.

Ivar sat by the table and stared at Hvitserk, who was in the middle of his breakfast.

“‘Sup, lil’ bro?”

“You scared and pissed her off yesterday.”

“Who’s her?” Hvitserk was too concentrated on his bountiful breakfast.

“Our neighbor, Hvitserk,” Ivar sighed.

“Oh, that? That was nothing.”

“I bet she thinks that too,” Ivar murmured to himself. “You gotta grow, man, at least a little. We just met her after six months. Don’t push it, she already probably have a bad image of us.”

“Why do you care about what she thinks?” Hvitserk said after a pause. Ivar said nothing; actually, he didn’t even moved. Hvitserk left his fork to drop. “You like her, you little bastard! You’re interested in her!”

“No, I’m not,” but of course he was. What could he have done when he felt your smell, when he saw your skin, your lips, your hair, your eyes, your face,  _ you _ ? When he heard your voice? Hvit was opening his mouth as if to scream something, but Ivar was faster and fisted the wooden table, making glass, plate, everything to jump. “ _ Don’t  _ you dare. I’ll kill you.”

Hvitserk smiled devilishly. “Got it, mate,” and kissed Ivar’s head before leaving.

*

Ivar was trying to get some projects finished for Floki, but his brothers weren’t helping. Hvitserk and Sigurd were screaming at each other,  _ again _ , about the goddamn car.

Ivar took a deep breath, took his cane, and went downstairs. In moments like this, he wanted to had given to Sigurd a “fuck off” and still have his bedroom downstairs. But no, Ivar had to prioritize his peace of mind.

When he finally got downstairs, Sigurd was heading to the garage, running, Hvitserk right behind him. Ivar was standing by the living room window when he saw you.

You were all set up to go to college, passing right in front of the Lothbroks’ garage, and the dickhead of Ivar’s brother (that’s how Ivar often addressed to Sigurd) was getting the car out of the garage, at full speed, heavy metal playing, almost running over you. Of course Sigurd didn’t see shit and, surprisingly, neither did Hvitserk. They were too engaged in their own shit show.

“Sigurd, you son of a bitch, I need that goddamn car!”

“I got it first, Hvitty!”

Hvitserk, pure fury, threw a baseball ball at the car’s direction, missing it, but almost hitting you on your face - luckily you got down very fast. Watching this, Ivar froze. He was so sure that the ball was going right into your face.

“Hey, you idi-” Ivar could hear you start snapping at Hvitserk, but he was already gone and you took your way back to the bus stop, annoyed.

Ivar decided he had two more things to do after he finished his projects: 1) kill his brothers and 2) making it up for you.

Hvitserk and Sigurd should thank the Gods that nothing happened to you; Sigurd being a dick and pushing you to their house into their shit, Hvitserk being an ass and today this? It’s less than a week and all of this had already happened… Ivar was so sure that you hate them.

He couldn’t take this risk. He couldn’t lose his chance to get to know you, because that’s what he wanted the most: to meet you, and you to meet him. He wanted to talk with you, laugh with you, share his thoughts with you, be with you. Those five minutes you two talked wasn’t enough for that, but it was enough to make Ivar be interested in you. What your eyes were saying… Definitely had something there, something that kept you to meeting them after all this time.

Ivar had to show you that not all Lothbroks were a dick - him specifically. And that’s why Ivar decided to ask something for his mom.

*

“So… you’re saying…” Aslaug said slowly while typing on her keyboard, concentrated.

“They will never learn, mom. They didn’t even bother to look around. Sigurd almost ran over Y/N, mom, and Hvitserk almost smacked her face with that stupid ball. I mean… Look at the circumstances that she met us. With Sigurd running away after a fight with us and you completely losing your shit. I think there’s a reason why she didn’t want to meet us before, and after all what happened… Did I tell you about yesterday?”

“At least twice,” Aslaug was still typing.

“Please, mom. I don’t want her to think that I’m an idiot too,” Ivar and Aslaug have always been too close; they had a kind of relationship that most boys don’t want to have with their moms, but they were different. Ivar had no shame of telling Aslaug what he felt, what he thought.

“I guess it’s not only that…” Ivar bit his bottom lip.

“Mom, she looks nice. And she… hm… She wasn’t mean to me, like most girls tend to be. She didn’t even looked at me differently. I know that I’m probably confusing things and that I should be totally logical in situations like this and…”

“Oh by the Gods, Ivar, shut up. You don’t have to look for a reason to be interested in that girl. She looks cute, you liked her. That’s all, and has nothing to do about how she treated you.”  _ But it does, at least some part of it _ , Ivar had thought. “Let’s do like this,” Aslaug stopped typing and turned in her chair to face her son. “You finish what you have to finish and I’ll make something sweet for her.”

“I don’t know what she likes.”

“You don’t even know her last name.”

Ivar paused.

“Mom, I don’t know what she likes,” he repeated and Aslaug laughed a bit.

“Oh, boy. It doesn’t matter what she likes, what it matters is your intention.”

“My intentions are very good, I can assure you, maybe a little naughty…” Aslaug lost her shit at her son, laughing like only Ivar could make her laugh and told him to go.

And so Ivar went to do his stuff, with butterflies in his stomach.

*

It was already night when Aslaug told him it was time. No one was home, just them.

“What did you made, mom?”

“Brownies.”

“Oh, those are good. Do you think she likes brownies?”

“I don’t give a shit if she likes my fucking brownies, I give a shit if she will like my son,” Ivar’s face had gone red. Aslaug knew what happened with his first girl and… well… let’s just say that she was as angry as him.

“Am I dressed properly?” he asked, nervous.

“Ivar, it’s not a date.”

“It’s important to me. I want to impress.”

“I think your brothers already did this quite well,” Ivar clicked his tongue.

He never felt like this before, about nothing. Not even with that girl, and not even when he went to Floki’s to ask about his internship (that meant the world to him). His heart was accelerated, his hands were slightly shaking and there were more butterflies in his stomach that he could count. He was going to see you. He was going to talk to you.

The walk to your house seemed to take an eternity, but there he was, standing at your front door. Ready to knock.

And so he knocked at your door.


	4. Chapter 4

You had the last drop of Hvitserk and that Sigurd brother of his was already in your list. To be almost ran over and then almost hit by a baseball ball? Those guys were deserving your fury.

And what could you do? Exactly: you had no idea, and that made you a little more pissed off, as if it was their fault that you had no idea about what to do with them.

You opened your book. One, two, three pages later and you heard someone knocking at your door. The bell didn’t rang; someone actually knocked. You closed your book. With your dad out of town, you had no idea of who could it be, but you could only guess: some Lothbrok.

You had to admit that, deep in your guts, you wanted to be Ivar. That simple thought sent shivers down your spine. You wanted Ivar knocking at your door. You had babbled at him, and even so, that was enough. Something grew inside of you.

After that night, every time when you had nothing to do or to think about, you caught yourself reviving that moment; but you say the right things this time, instead of whatever shit you’ve had said before.

“I’ll get it!” your mom shouted, awakening you from your thoughts.

You went downstairs carefully, and by the end of the stairs you could see your visitors. Your heart jumped, so fast and so suddenly that you had to order to yourself  _ recompose yourself! He’s just a guy. He’s just your neighbor. He’s no one. _

Ivar hadn’t see you coming, but Aslaug did. You smiled shyly and waved a hand at her. You could hear Ivar.

“I brought some treats to Y/N, as an apology in the name of my brothers, for what happened yesterday and…” he paused, as if ashamed. “And today. They behaved like two idiots.”

“Oh, Ivar, that’s so sweet of you! I’ll…” but in the moment your mom started, Ivar’s eyes caught sight of you, and he couldn’t take those blue eyes of him out of you. You wished you weren’t wearing those mom ripped jeans and that T-shirt stained with paint, but, what the hell?

Instead of crying over you lame choice of outfit, you tried your best to act like you didn’t care (because he’s a Lothbrok), but to also act like you cared a little (because he’s Ivar).

Getting away from the stair handrail, you pointed with your chin to the plate on Ivar’s hand. “What’s there?” you said with a sweet voice.

“Cookies,” he managed quickly.

“It’s brownies, honey,” Aslaug corrected. You could hear Ivar breathing deeply and then holding it.

“Oh,” you started, coming closer and taking the plate from his hand. You let the tip of your fingers touch, on purpose. “Those are my favorite,” you gave him a little smile. “You may come in, Ivar,” you changed the tone of your voice, making him laugh.

You headed to the kitchen, and you knew Ivar was following you. You heard your mom offering a glass of wine to Aslaug, who accepted it. You placed the plate of brownies on the kitchen island, took a seat and a bite. Ivar sat right across you. You pressed your lips in a smile to your mom while she left with the glasses and the wine. Someone had to break the ice, which meant  _ you _ , because Ivar didn’t seem to do it so soon, looking at his hands, like if he had just discovered them, for the first time.

“Those are really good,” they were. “Did you made them?”

“Oh, no. Yeah. No.”

“What?” you giggled. “Decide, Ivar,” you had a smile on your face. He passed a hand through his face. His hair was up in a man bun, you could see it now.

“My mom made them, but only because I had no time. My brothers slowed me down… But I’m a good cooker! I swear. I just hadn’t time.”

“I believe in you. You have a good-cooker face,” you two smiled.

“I really am sorry for my brothers. I saw what happened, but still had no chance to talk with them.”

“That’s okay,” you looked down at the brownies, poking them. That guy cared about you. He actually did. And he  _ knocked  _ at your door. There were rules for that, explanations. A guy who knocked, a guy who cared. Well, at least it was what your best friend always had said about guys.

“I couldn’t do anything because I wouldn’t make it in time…” Ivar said, referring to his legs, but he wasn’t sure if you had get it. But you did.

“Yeah,” pause. “It must suck, right?” Ivar was so sure you were talking about his legs, that he couldn’t avoid thinking  _ what a stupid idea. What was I thinking? She’s like everyone else _ . “To live with them.”

“What?” Ivar looked at you; you were still looking down at the brownies.

“Your brothers,” you said, biting one more brownie. “It must suck to live with them. They are so stressing, and I only live in the house next door. Imagine you.”

“Tell me about it,” Ivar relaxed. “I hate when both Hvitserk and Sigurd are home. They’re always fighting, messing around, screaming at each other. And then I scream at them for screaming, and Ubbe, my older brother, scream at me for screaming at them. And then my father will scream at Ubbe, and my mom will scream at my father,” you were shaking your head in disbelief.

“It’s a cycle,” you whispered.

“It’s a fucking cycle,” Ivar whispered back.

“Why does Hvitserk and Sigurd fight so much?” Ivar raised his hands.

“Their shit, I don’t really know.”

You two laughed. Ivar’s laugh was given in an open smile, making it possible to see his teeth, pointy, sharp. You found that adorable, somehow, in the way you could possibly find teeth adorable, yet maybe scary. Ivar told some funny things about his family, which made you laugh. Anyone who saw you two could tell there was a palpable attraction in the air between you. You felt that. Ivar felt that. He was able to take your breath out, only with his voice, laugh, smile, eyes, scent. You loved that moment, every bit of it. It was what you were dreaming, hoping on; to talk with him again,  _ right _ this time. Both of your hands were on the kitchen island, close to each other; every time you laughed, your hands moved and touched, and you could feel his hot skin against yours, for a second only, but that second felt like so much more time. His quick touch was like little shocks against your own skin.

At some point, Ivar started eating the brownies with you, making it last only for five minutes.

He asked you about your college and you asked about his. Internships were discussed and summer jobs mentioned.

“I’m gonna be free this summer from my internship; Floki’s gonna travel with his wife, and so he thought about giving me a break.”

“This Floki guy seems to be nice - oh, do you want some cold brew coffee? I just made it this afternoon.”

“Yeah - for both, coffee and Floki. Floki’s friendship with my old man goes from way back. He’s like my second father, taught me a lot,” you poured the coffee in two mason jars - there was only  _ one  _ way to drink it right. You go on style or you don’t go at all, that was your motto. Maybe your motto didn’t applied for outfits when it came about Ivar Lothbrok knocking at your door.

You handed him the mason jar and, when he got it, your fingers got tied in his; you laughed, because you couldn’t free you hand. “So, I’m stuck here,” Ivar laughed.

“Yeah, just… let me…” with his free hand he grabbed the mason jar, letting then both of your hands, which were trapped together, free. Before you could take your hand out of his sight, he quickly - and carefully, you had to add, because his hands looked so rough that surprised you when they were so careful - grabbed it, examining your nails. “I liked your nail polish,” he passed his thumb through your nails, feeling the rugged relief of the glitter. That caught you out of guard.

“Thank you,” you said shyly. Ivar looked up to your eyes; how soft his own looked right now. He smiled, and that smile, even though shy, with those plump lips, gave you an urge to kiss him.

You wanted to feel its softness, to feel his lips against yours, against your skin, whispering things in you ear…

“Y/N, you’re staring,” Ivar woke you from your thoughts.

“Nope, just zoning out,” you quickly managed, thanks god, hoping that you hadn’t went red.

“I was saying that this is very good,” he took a sip of his coffee.

“Thanks, I used to work at a coffee shop, back when I lived with my grandparents.”

“What happened? Did they…?” Ivar didn’t finished his question, and he didn’t even needed to. You just nodded. “Do you miss them?” Ivar asked, carefully. You nodded again.

“It still feels strange… You know?”

“I can imagine. I haven’t met mine. Any.”

“I’m so sorry…”

“Yeah, but I kinda ruined the vibe here when I asked about them, so…” Ivar placed his hands on the counter, shoulders up. You thought he was getting up to leave, and so you heart raced. “What do you think my stupid brothers deserve?” You let a laugh escape from your lips.

“Ivar? Time to go,” you heard Aslaug calling for him. He looked at you. His eyes weren’t so happy now.

“I’ll go with you outside,” you said.

“Oh no, there’s no need. You must be tired, I stayed for too long,” he looked over to his watch on his wrist.

At the kitchen door, when he turned to say goodbye, you only said, before he could say anything first: “Blue ink,” he furrowed his brow and you pointed to your own hair. “Your brothers. Blue ink.”

Ivar’s eyes immediately looked more sharpened, and you could see lust and evil. “Aren’t you a vengeful girl?” he said while looking at you, toes to hair, with those blue, lustful eyes, which got locked on your own, shining, with half a grin on his lips and yes, that bastard bit them, with those sharp, pointy teeth.

You felt yourself trembling and something else inside your guts. “They deserve it,” you said.  _ Gosh _ , you hoped so much you looked as sexy as you wanted and was trying to. If you didn’t, Ivar didn’t give any sign of it. Instead, he almost undressed you with his gaze, saying: “Got it, little girl,” and left.

The moment the kitchen door closed you looked down at yourself, seeing your bare feet, your mom ripped jeans and the goddamn stain in your T-shirt, thinking  _ oh god _ .

*

Next day you woke up with the sound of laughing. Which was rare. The Lothbroks only screamed.

It wasn’t laugh of joy - well, of course all laugh was of joy, but it didn’t seem that they were laughing at some joke or a genuine funny situation, but yes on someone, as if messing around. You could tell that because of the way they laughed: exaggerated, losing their shit.

Then you heard an angry scream and something breaking.

“Well, that took some time,” you said to yourself out loud.

All set up to class, you went downstairs to take your breakfast. Your mom was watching television with a cup of hot cocoa in hands and a knitted blanket - that you had knit - covering her legs.

“Mom, it’s almost summer. Isn’t it a little… warm?”

“Shh, Y/N, don’t interrupt Jake Peralta,” your mom didn’t even look away of the TV screen.

You took a look outside through the window. It was a perfect morning to take your breakfast at your favorite coffee shop, in downtown. Before you opened your front door your mom announced: “Father’s coming back today. We’ doing a little gathering. Lothbroks will come. Be here pretty. Have a good day, darling!” You could tell your mom was really wrapped up with Brooklyn 99 just by the way she spoke.

When you stepped outside you saw that you had correspondence. Opening the mailbox, you saw an envelope with your name written on it with a beautiful handwriting. You opened it, curious. Two polaroids and a note were inside. You first read the note.

_ I thought about what you had said last night. _

Taking the two polaroids, you could identify two of Ivar’s brothers. One of them was Hvitserk, with… well, missing eyebrows. You held a laugh. The second picture was the guy that was in the car, who almost hit you, Sigurd, although you took some time to recognize him with bright pink hair.

You look to their house, but Ivar wasn’t around to be seen. Shaking your head in disbelief, smiling, you put the two polaroids and the note back in the envelope and put it in your backpack.

*

Nothing couldn’t be more cozy to you than Bragr Café. You felt your body covered in coziness as you entered into the coffee shop. That place held a mix of rustic and modern: rustic enough to make you feel like you had just entered in a Great Hall from the Vikings Age and modern enough so you couldn’t feel out of place and, by that, uncomfortable.

Your favorite spot was a big armchair at the back, with not much light and a great bookcase at its side, but it was already taken by a blonde braided-hair guy, so you decide to take your order to go.

Bragr Café was the perfect place if you like poetry, but mainly skaldic poetry, which was the point of the poetry project of the coffee shop. If another category of poetry was presented, it wasn’t good as skaldic was - actually it was, in most of cases, a disaster. But you enjoyed other people’s try, either way. It was a calm place.

Before you left you returned the book you got borrowed to the bookcase, close to the blonde guy. When you turned to leave, you heard him saying: “Have a good day, girl,” and so you thought he was talking to you. You look at him.

Beard as blonde as his hair, transparent blue eyes, skin burned by the sun, rough hands, he had that perfect viking vibe you always had imagined they would look like. His smile could shatter hearts. You then realized you often saw him around the coffee shop.

He was clearly older than you, but yet he seemed so young.

You noticed he had a big planner balanced on his legs.

“Oh, thank you! Have a good day,” you responded, smiling. He smiled at you and got his attention back to his enormous planner.

At the exit you got a flyer announcing the events of the week. Sometimes, at night, they would have live music; it was the case of Friday night. It was a local band, of course, but even so you didn’t know them, and since you were missing a good night out, you decide to give your best friend a call.

You missed her, and she could spent the night at your place.

*

Your classes passed by quickly, you didn’t even noticed it was already over. Getting all your stuff together, your professor calls for you.

“You did a great job with your research paper, Y/N, I’m impressed. Most of our students are… quite simple, if you understand what I mean. How did you manage it?”

“Oh, just a lot of concentration and patience, you know…” you gave a little and polite laugh, remembering the situation the Lothbroks had put you in. Your professor smiles back to you.

“I’ll give you my congratulations, ms. Y/L/N.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“I would hand it back to you, but I was planning on giving it back to all students next class, but…” he got close to you and started to whisper. “Here’s a spoiler: A+,” and winked.

*

You got way too happy and satisfied with your grade, considering the conditions you found yourself during the production of it.

With your class over and your father coming home, you decide to stop at his favorite bakery and buy his favorite ice cream pie. That bakery was at the other side of town, but Kattegat wasn’t that big, anyways.

Looking at your watch, you calculate your timing.

The day was so beautiful that made you wanna walk all the way to get the ice cream pie, but that would take longer, and what if your mom needed help?

Then you decided to take a cab. 

Which wasn’t very helpful; the traffic was terrible.

“This isn’t very common, is it?” you ask to the driver.

“No. I heard of some accident.”

“That’s great,” you mumble to yourself.

“With luck, there’s a way back that shouldn’t be like that.”

*

Which was the case, but the round trip cost you 3 hours.

You gave the taxi driver an extra tip.

When you got home it was almost 6 pm, and it seemed everyone was already there. It was almost dark and you could see, from the kitchen, that someone hanged light bulbs all over your backyard, like fairy lights.

Stepping closer, you could feel the smell of barbecue.

Your backyard looked amazing, you gotta admit. You saw everyone there: Ragnar, Aslaug, Ivar - your heart bumped - and more two of his brothers. Your mom wasn’t around - yet - and your father was taking care of the meat.

“Father!” you said out loud, running into him. Everyone looked at you, surprised; you got in too silently, so no one had felt your presence.

Your father turned around to see you and opened his arms. You got nestled, feeling his warm and scent; gosh, you missed this silly man so much.

“How was it? Hi, I missed you,” you asked and said. He laughed.

“I missed you too, honey. It was a great trip, and a great job,” he added. “I brought some cool stuff.”

“Wow, that’s good. I’m excited to see it. You gotta tell me everything!”

“Oh, there’s not much to tell… but I think someone wants to talk with you,” you followed your father’s gaze: Ivar. Butterflies got the control of your stomach.

You smiled to Ivar and got close. He didn’t take his eyes out of yours. You gave him a half smile.

“Appreciate that,” you said.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, it didn’t cost me too much, and I loved to do it, so I’m glad.”

“Was it easy?”

“Hell yeah. Hvitserk sleeps like a rock, and Sigurd wakes up very sleepy. Let’s take a seat and I’ll tell ya the details,” you two occupied a wooden bench far from everyone, so you two could have some time alone. “When I got back home Sig and Hvit were playing video game, so I just took a look at them and… it clicked. I got the car and went to Walmart; bought the pink ink and the shaving cream. I thought about painting Hvit’s eyebrows, but he could just paint it back, so it wouldn’t be that much funny. I put the pink ink inside Sigurd’s shampoo. Like I said, when he wakes up he’s not really there yet, so he wouldn’t notice his hair going pink, even if it’s  _ bright  _ pink,” you laughed, Ivar following you. “He’s very proud and vainglorious with his appearance, mainly his hair, so that would be the perfect revenge. Even if he tried to find his blonde shade, his hair would be a horrible mess, so his only option - and I was right - would be to shave his head, which also has a light pink shade. To shave his head was his nightmare, and I - proudly -,” Ivar placed his hand in his chest, next to his heart “am the responsible for it. Revenge number one: achieved. Hvitserk is also very cocky, about everything, as you may have noticed…”

“Oh yes, I had. Ew,” he laughed.

“So yes, I shaved one of his two eyebrows while he was asleep. He didn’t even move,” Ivar’s body was shaking as he talked and laughed, hands placed between his opened legs, his posture all relaxed. “He looks now all weird and he can’t get laid - probably not even a little kiss.”

“Revenge number two: achieved,” you said.

“Yes,” Ivar was looking directly at your lips, which made you blush and got you disconcerted, biting your bottom lip unconsciously. He took a deep breath and bit his bottom lip too, trying as fuck to not pull you closer to him and kiss you. Instead, he got his knee closer to yours. You didn’t notice it; you were too busy admiring all his features.

“Thank you,” you said, sounding like you weren’t really there, but somewhere else.

“It was my pleasure,” Ivar said back, knee touching yours, one hand placed in the bench between you two to steady himself as he leaned closer.

Ivar was so close to you that you could see his pores and feel him breathing. Damn, he smelled amazing. A mixture of clove and something else…

You two are now breathing the same air and you were almost closing your eyes…

“There’s people around,” you whispered.

“Family. Yeah,” he whispered back and took a deep breath. You also took a deep breath and bit your bottom lip harder. The tip of his fingers touched yours, and then they were gone and you felt him distancing himself. You opened your eyes, blinking.

Ivar was up and offering you his hand, to help you to get up. You smiled shyly and accepted his hand. It was rough, big. Like a hand of a farmer, or even a warrior. Calloused.

You didn’t want to be like that, or to feel like that, or to demonstrate that, but you were upset that he didn’t kissed you. That Ivar didn’t dare to kiss you in front of his and your family.

You tried to not avoid him too much during the barbecue, but you did it. You couldn’t fight against the shame you were feeling. Of course you understand his motives. That would be shit. What a shitty idea.

You got to your room and took a post-it, a pen, and wrote your cellphone number on it. Running downstairs, you try to not think  _ dumb idea dumb idea dumb idea _ . 

Standing at Ivar’s side, you put the post-it very discreetly into his hand.

He doesn’t even need to see what’s written on it to know it.

He looks at you and his eyes are shining; he smiles discreetly.


	5. Chapter 5

“It’s not like I’m waiting for him to call or anything…” you say on the phone, twisting a lock of your hair between your fingers.

“Yeah, right,” say your best friend from the other line. “And you’re doing that thing with your hair.”

“What?” you sound surprised, letting go of your hair. “No I’m not.”

“Yes, you  _were_. Every time someone tells you that you’re doing it, you stop.”

“You know me so well,” you say giggling.

“Years of practice,” you two laugh. “So, you want me to travel in a train for four hours just to see your face?”

“And go to a local band show.”

“In an indie-hipster coffee shop?”

“There’s no such a thing as  _indie-hipster_ ,” you mock her.

“There’s now! Okay, you know that I would cross the world just to see you, right?”

“Yep! I’ll pick you up at the train station.”

“Honey, you spoil me.”

Amy was your friend since you two were born; she was the only certainty you knew your entire life. Sometimes you would wonder if she knew you more than you did it yourself. Two days had passed and nothing from Ivar; that was the reason why you had called her.  _Again_.

Okay, alright, it’s not like if you had waited for him to text you in that same night - actually you did! -, but for a guy who painted his brother’s hair and waxed the eyebrow of the other just because of you, you at least waited for a sign in two days. Two days were a good time lapse.

Your phone rang at a message and you quickly checked it.

_I bet you thought it was Ivar. Gotcha ;)_ , it was Amy.

_Ugh, you’re evil_ , you text back.

*

Another day had passed with no Ivar News - as Amy had baptized the cause -, and you were painting to pass the time, completely focused at both in the music and Copenhagen’s colourful buildings. Calm flowed through your body like river water.

You had forgotten Ivar and didn’t even thought at the possibility of being him when your phone rang. You picked it up without looking at the screen.

“Hello?” you answered.

“Y/N?” you immediately dropped your paint-brush and your heart went in an alert mode, taking your breath out.

“Oh, Ivar? Hi,” you tried to sound casual, like if he didn’t had caught you out off guard.

“Am I interrupting something? I could call later…”

“No no no, I’m free. Just painting.”

“Painting? That’s cool,” he says interested.

“Yeah, it’s relaxing. I also like to do it while listening to music, it just… increases the calmness.”

“Oh, music, yeah, right, that actually reminds me of something,” he sounded like if he had indeed remembered something.

“What?” you sit on your bed, butterflies flying all around your stomach and body, anxious.

“This Friday Sigurd and his band are going to play in a coffee shop in downtown. I thought that maybe you would like to come…”

“Wait, this Friday?”

“Yeah, but it’s totally fine if you already have plans…”

“Where?”

“At Bragr’s…”

“Oh my god! I’m going there with my friend!” you said excitedly. “What a coincidence! We should all go!” after you said it, you noticed it. What a dumb idea; you just ruined everything. Ivar had called to ask  _you_ out and you just dragged your friend into it. You felt in between crossroads: you didn’t want to say ‘no’ to Ivar but you couldn’t ditch Amy.

But what you didn’t know is that Ivar’s mind worked fast. Of course, it wasn’t what he wanted; but oh, the perks of having older brothers… it was very handy sometimes.

“With your friend? I could take Ubbe with me, you know? He happens to be my only brother who remains whole.”

“Whole?” you ask giggling.

“Whole  _and_ original. Just like as he came from the factory,” you laugh out loud, getting the reference. You could feel that Ivar was pleased with your laugh.

“Yeah, with his original hair and eyebrows untouched.”

“Exactly,” Ivar’s tone was amused.

“Okay, then,” you agree.

“Okay?” Ivar repeat, without really believing.

“Okay.”

“So we’re settled. Show begins at eight o’clock,” he says excited.

“We’ll meet you there.”

“Cool.”

“Cool.”

There’s a silence now. It was that kind of ethereal silence, but yet palpable, like if you could feel Ivar right by your side, but he wasn’t - well, he was next door.

“Y/N?”

“I’m here.”

“I know.”

“ _Ivar_!” you hear someone screaming. It was weird, because you could hear it from your house as well as from the phone line.

“Oh shit, it’s Sigurd,” Ivar mumbles.

“You should give him some attention,” you say. “You don’t want to piss him off more than you already did, right?”

“Actually, that’s what I’ve born for,” you laugh.

“It’s okay, Ivar Lothbrok, go talk with your brother. I’ll see you on Friday.”

“Alright. Good night, Y/N.”

“Good night, Ivar.”

A pause.

“Good night,” he says again.

“Good night,” you smiled.

Even though you couldn’t see Ivar, you could hear him smiling. And then he hung up.

*

At Friday you picked Amy up at the train station. You haven’t seen her since you moved to Kattegat; her hair was longer, just under her breasts. You always thought that her black hair matched her brown eyes and, after all this time, they just matched more, as if this was possible.

“ _Oh my shrieking god_ ,” she screamed, almost leading you to deafness, making everyone turn around and look at you two. She dropped her suitcase and backpack and ran into you, jumping and hugging you like a monkey. She kissed you multiple times in your forehead and cheeks. “I missed you  _so much_! I love you so much!”

You two laughed like crazy.

“I missed you two, little monkey. Okay, free me now, please. I’m dying here, I’m not that strong to hold a person.”

“You’ll get there,” she let go off you. “So, tell me more about Ivar,” she says while picking her bags from the ground, where she had dropped them.

“I already told you.”

“Yeah, but, tell me  _more_. I know that you haven’t told me everything about him.”

“Of course not,” you respond helping her, taking the biggest bag. “I barely know him to know everything about him to - then - tell you.”

“So please let me reformulate my phrase: everything  _you know_ ,” you roll your eyes.

“Already did it, Ames.”

“Is he hot? Does he have brothers? Does he have  _hot_ brothers?”

“I already told that he’s hot!” you say in an alarming tone, then remembering the little detail of tonight. “Oh… I forgot to tell you.”

“What?” she asks in a hurry, sitting in the passenger seat, curious.

“Tonight we’re going out with Ivar and his brother.”

“So he has a brother! Oh, you evil thing! You denied me that information!” you laughed, eyes on the road.

“Sorry, I didn’t know it was important.”

“It’s  _always_  important! I’m a brother predator.”

“Oh my god.”

“I’m a brother predator and I’m totally gonna catch Ivar’s brother.”

“You might wanna be lucky in that,” you said, remembering that Ivar had three brothers.

“I always succeed.”

“I’ve never heard of this predator side of yours.”

“It’s a new thing. I discovered when you told me Ivar has a brother,” you laughed out loud. Amy was really a rare piece and gosh, how you missed her. “I’m glad you didn’t sent me to a hotel or anything.”

“Are you crazy?” you ask, looking over at her. She shrugged.

“My parents kinda did that. For a couple of months.”

“What?” you said surprised.

“They were just… tired of me. Put me away. Eventually they regret it, but… after this, I opened my eyes, so now I’m working to have my own place.”

“Why didn’t you told me that? You could have totally stayed at my house.”

“Y/N, I live four hours away from you, and I have my college. I couldn’t take an exchange,” you took a deep breath.

“You know, I’m very angry at you for not telling me that,” you and Amy had an agreement: always tell you each other how you felt. “Annoyed, not angry,” you corrected yourself, shaking your head. “This is an important shit. I could’ve helped you; I always can, with everything.”

“I know. I’m sorry,” she said in a low tone. “I was embarrassed.”

“ _Embarrassed_? What could you possibly be embarrassed with? We know each other for our whole lives. Family problems happen,” you saw with the corner of your eye that Amy smiled.

“Well, everything’s okay now. Soon enough I’ll get my own place, and then you’ll visit me, and we’ll party all night, all weekend…” Amy kept going on and on with her plans, which made you smile.

Everyone had that one thing in their life that they’re always thankful for. Music, art, job, kids, money, fame…

You had Amy. She was an extroverted and crazy girl; she was your other half. She was everything you wasn’t and vice versa. You completed each other. She took you out, on adventures, on crazy and unforgettable night outs, while you took her in, on indoor plans.

And of course, sometimes you would take her to a local band show with Ivar and his brother, to see his other brother playing.

*

“I hope Ivar’s brother’s hot,” Amy said the moment you walked in Bragr’s.

“Trust me, he’s very good looking.”

“ _Very good looking_?” she repeated your words. “That doesn’t really encourage me so much.”

“Trust me, Amy. It’s just… I’m into guys like Ivar.”

“Yeah, a vengeful younger brother. What does that say about you? Hey, I think Ivar would take a table at the back where’s dark, so you two could be a little more private when me and his brother are out,” you gave a weird look at her. “What? Why do you think he would drag his  _older_ ,” she sighed “brother into this? Just so we could excuse us to the bathroom to make out and you could be alone in an appropriate date. Just because you’re kinda blind when the subject is boys that doesn’t mean everyone is too.”

“Oh my god, did you just called me blind?” you look at her, amused.

“There they are,” she points to a table at the back, in a dark corner. Just like she said. “Told ya.”

You two approach casually, you trying not to fall while Ivar look at you up and down, taking you in. Your heart skipped.

“That will cause a hell of a damage,” Amy whispers at you discreetly about Ubbe. “I think I’m already wet.”

“Shut up, don’t make me laugh.”

“Hey,” Ivar greets you with a soft voice, pulling the chair next to him so you could sit. “You’re looking great,” he said making you blush.

“Thanks,” you said shyly. “That’s Amy, my friend,” you introduce her, avoiding the cause of your blushing. “Amy, those are Ivar and Ubbe.”

“Actually, I’m her  _best_ friend,” she corrected. “Nice to meet y’all. I’ve heard a lot about you, Ivar,” you step on her feet, trying to make her shut up. “Ouch,” she whispers. Ivar’s eyes had gone shine with what Amy had said and he smiled playfully, looking at you.

“Oh, really? What kind of things did she say about me?”  _I can’t believe it_ , you think.  _I simply can’t believe it. I think I’m going to die_. Ivar didn’t got his eyes out of yours, making it worse.

“You know, girl talk… always a secret.”

“We have boy talk too…” Ubbe says, looking at you.

“Why is everyone looking at me?”

_Maybe because you’re the subject between them_ , a voice inside of you would’ve said, but you didn’t listen.

“What is this band that I traveled for four hours to see playing?” Amy says, changing the subject so you can feel comfortable. She liked to play with you, but she knew you too well to know that sometimes wasn’t worth it.

“It’s our brother’s band,” Ubbe says. “We always come to support him. Hvitserk would’ve come if…  well… if he was okay, I could say.”

“Wait… there’s more of you?” Amy asks, surprised.

“Yep,” Ivar answer, leaning on his chair. “Three more.”

“ _Three_?” you and Amy said at the same time.

“Wait, what?” Amy looks at you. “I thought you knew.”

“I know they’re four,” you responded.

“We’re five. Well, six. We have a sister,” Ubbe said.

“Who’s the other brother?” you ask.

“He’s Bjorn, older than Ubbe, from father’s first marriage,” Ivar answer with a lack of interest.

“And the girl too. She’s Gyda. Gyda’s nice.”

Amy was the queen of changing the subject when she felt that there was tension in the air.

“So Ubbe, what do you do?” she directed herself to Ubbe, leaving you and Ivar by yourselves.

You turned to him, feeling a little nervous. He was looking handsome, his hair in a man bun, wearing a leather jacket over a white T-shirt. He was looking confident, completely the opposite of you.

“How’s Hvitserk?” you ask. Ivar frowns, confused.

“Good?” he answers in a confused tone.

“I’m asking because of his eyebrows…”

“Oh, right,” Ivar smiles. “I was really curious if he would shave or draw the other. We and Ubbe made a bet: I went with drawing because it’s funny, but Ubbe went with shaving.”

“And?”

“Oh, Hvitserk haven’t gone out of the house yet, so he’s just with one eyebrow. I think he’s deciding what to do,” you laugh way too loud, nodding.

“I think he’s waiting for the other to grow, so this way he don’t have to shave or to draw,” Ivar raises an eyebrow.

“I guess this would take too long, but it’s a possibility. Hvitserk couldn’t take both options… I think he prefers to not be seen, then. His chicks could wait.”

“And he could invent a great story where he ends up being the hero,” Ivar laughs out loud, tilting his head back.

“Yeah, I can totally imagine this. He’s probably going to do that. Well, Sigurd’s very fond of his hair, but he prefered to shave it than to paint it again and ruining his hair. Hair grows,” Ivar shrugged.

“There are times when I feel a little guilty…”

“Oh no, you shouldn’t,” Ivar leans toward you. “I’m always looking for some excuse to fuck with them.”

“And  _I_  was that excuse,” you point out.

“Hey,” Ivar takes your hand. You freeze. “They don’t know that this has anything to do with you. We’re always doing things like that to each other, it’s perfectly normal…” Ubbe looks with the corner of his eye to you two.

“Yo, Sigurd’s already on stage. Me and Amy will take a closer table,” he says. “Come, heart. Let’s find a good spot,” Amy looks pop-eyed at you, whispering ‘he called me heart!’ They left, Ubbe resting his arm on her shoulder. You were smiling at them.

“How are you?” Ivar asks, trying to get your attention.

“Good,” you turn to him, still smiling. “You?”

“Better now that we’re alone,” you blush and smile.

“I’m sorry for that. I already had invited her and…”

“Hey, everything worked out, right? Believe me, she’s gonna have a great time with Ubbe. Now come, sit here,” Ivar taps the chair at his side, where Ubbe was previously sat. You obey him. “Will I ever get to see what you were painting when I called that night?” Ivar rested his arm on the backrest of your chair, a way of casually break the distance between you.

“Oh, that,” you look up, smiling. “It’s just a simple painting.”

“Tell me about it,” Ivar asks with interest, turning to you and replacing himself in the chair. You noticed that neither his crutch nor cane was around.

“There was this time when I traveled with my grandparents to Copenhagen. We had such a great time there; it was when I moved in with them, I was thirteen. I remember I liked very much the boats and the colourful buildings. I was just feeling nostalgic,” he nods, comprehensively.

“Then it must be an important painting,” he starts. “It leads you back to a good time, a good memory,” you gaze at him, astonished.

“Yes…” you start smiling slowly. “Yes, it is that,” he smiles.

Sigurd’s band starts to play, but neither you nor Ivar pays any attention; you’re too busy making eye contact. “I really want to hold your hands,” Ivar says. Not looking away, you reach for his hand. He smiles, gently squeezing yours. “You have no idea how happy I was when you gave me your number. I took so long to give any sign because I didn’t know what to say, and I just simply didn’t want to say shit. Plus, I hadn’t the guts to ask you out”

“You ended up doing it,” you sounded flirty. Ivar got closer.

“Turns out I’m persistent,” he responds in the same flirty way.

“You’re not the only one.”

Confidence filled your body and you got closer to Ivar. You felt him squeezing your hand, an unconscious act of his nervousness. You closed your eyes and were moving so slowly that you barely felt growing closer to him. You just knew you were there when you felt you were breathing the same air now. You bit your lips and felt his own against yours.

His plump lips were just like you have imagined them to be: soft, smooth, delicate. He kissed you gently, softly, taking your chin with his hand so you could raise your head to level the height difference, even if you were sat.

After a couple of minutes, you broke apart to breath.

“Are you okay?” Ivar asks, out of breath as well.

“Yeah,” you respond breathless, locking your lips on his once again.

This time you get the freedom to touch his face, feeling the sensation of his skin against your fingers, tracing lines in his cheekbones, going to his nape. Once there, it was easy to pull him closer.

His hands went to your back, holding you tightly. His tongue motion matched yours.

The kiss was getting deeper and faster, and you had to control yourself to not end up sitting on his lap, such distance you were decreasing.

Ivar was the one to broke apart this time.

“I hate to do this, but…” you try to shut him by kissing him. He smiles and breaks apart again. “People are kinda staring at us.”

“We are too beautiful, they can’t get enough of it,” you, then, keeps kissing his cheek.

“I think we are too hot and that’s why they’re staring,” you gasp, laughing. You place your forehead on his shoulders.

“We could go to a more private place if you want to,” you feel him holding his breath.

“Gods know I would love to.”

“But?” you look up at him.

“But I want to take my time with you. We went a little far for our first kiss.”

“I think it was a good first kiss.”

“Me too. People even stared,” you two laughed.

“Okay,” you said quietly, snuggling into his arms, finally looking at the stage where Sigurd was. Ivar kissed you on your temple before resting his arm on your shoulder and enjoying his brother’s show.

*

Going back to your house you were radiant. You and Amy got a ride with Ubbe and Ivar; Amy sat in the backseat with Ivar, talking aggressively about the night, about how much she enjoyed it and how she was planning on visit you more often. Ubbe would smile at her and make polite comments while you and Ivar maintained eye contact through the rearview mirror, smiling at each other.

Getting out of the car, Ivar opened his window to gently grab you by your wrist, making you turn to him and then saying: “maybe a kiss of good night, please?”

You smiled at him and leaned over the open window, slightly kissing his lips. You felt him smiling while you kissed him.

“Good night, Y/N.”

“Good night, Ivar.”

Inside the house, you and Amy had a slumber party that got you back to your teenagehood, when you two reunited at her apartment in downtown. You made popcorn, ate candies and watched romantic comedy movies, talking non-stop.

“So, how did it went with Ubbe?” you asked her.

“Oh. My. God. He’s  _so_  great. I swear to all the gods out there when I say that a kiss didn’t got me this wet in a long time,” you laugh, covering your face.

“You thank Ivar for that, because if it was for me it would only go the three of us.”

“I imagined that he was the one who saved the homeland.”

“He was.”

“And how did he go?” Amy asks you.

“So great,” and then you tell her every little detail.

“I bet he’s a horny guy,” Amy says with her mouth full of popcorn. You beat her with a cushion, scolding her. She let an ‘ouch’ out and laughs. “But I thought you told me he’s disabled. Of course, he was walking with some difficult, but… I didn’t see him with anything, you know?”

“Yeah, me neither… I only saw him with his crutch or cane twice. I… I don’t know.”

“Maybe there are days when he feels good enough? What does his legs have, anyway?” you shrugged at her question. “Well my friend, what matters is that he’s hot and he knocked at your door,” Amy said, moving her attention to the movie. “And that his brother’s hot as well.”

“Have you got his number? Ubbe, I mean.”

“What? Hell no. Ubbe’s the type of… well, that type of adventure, you know? You only see him when you go to that weird town once a year, not exchanging texts in the meantime,” Amy pauses, thinking. “Even thought sextext is a thing right now… I gotta enter in the new modern world, but I’m old school.”

You laugh at her and your phone rang at a message. Amy looked at it with the corner of her eye, but deciding to give you some time. She knew who it was.

_I had a great time_ , Ivar texted.  _And I really enjoyed our little audience. Btw, Ubbe liked your friend. He said she’s funny; I’m sensing something in the air. Sleep well, little one._

You smile all shyly, blushing, deciding to only text him back in the morning.

“Ubbe liked you,” you say to Amy, locking your phone and throwing yourself at the bed you and her made on the floor out of pillows, cushions and blankets.

“What can I say?” she shrugs. “It’s my brother predator side.”


	6. Chapter 6

_ I had a great time too _ , you text Ivar back in the morning.  _ Sigurd’s band is really cool, I wasn’t expecting that. Amy is completely baffled by Ubbe, she loved the night. _

Ivar’s response came immediately.

_ Morning, Y/N, how did you sleep? I gotta say, Ubbe’s getting in my nerves; he can’t stop talking about Amy. He keeps asking when she’ll left, so we could do something before that. _

You giggle at Ivar’s message.

_Well, that’s good to know; I like Ubbe, I don’t think he’ll harm my beloved best friend. She’ll leave on monday evening._ You sent it and you realize you hadn’t answered Ivar’s first question, so you quickly added: _I slept well, it was a fun night._ _You?_

_ Yeah, I could hear you little girls screaming. Have you watched any horror movie? _

_ Ivar, we didn’t scream. _

_ No? Oh. I guess then it was just Hvitserk at the sight of him in the mirror, my apologies _ , you laugh out loud.  _ I heard that _ , Ivar added in sequence.

_ Good. _

_ Maybe we should do something again tomorrow then, what do you think? _ , Ivar texts.

_ That sounds great, I think Amy will like it. But, I have to say, she’s not really the type of girl who… well, yeah, sometimes, but… _

_ What is it? Did she not like Ubbe that much? I don’t want to force her to anything. _

_ No no no, it’s not that. She liked him, but… just for fun, you know? Maybe you should already prepare Ubbe for that, I don’t know him the way you do. _

_ Oh… yeah, right. Ubbe falls pretty easily. _

“ _ Ivar _ !!” you hear someone screaming from your neighbors’ backyard.

_ Have you heard that? _ , Ivar asks.

_ Oh, I have. It sounded angry. _

_ It’s my father, I haven’t finished something he asked me to. _

_ How disappointing, Ivar Lothbrok _ , you mess with him.

_ Sorry, ma’am. _

_ Go help your father. _

_ Will do. Talk to you later, girl. Enjoy your day with your friend. _

You smile at Ivar’s last text, deciding to leave it like that, locking your phone. Amy walks into the kitchen, scratching her head, her hair a messy nest.

“Did I just witnessed your neighbors’ famous screams?”

“Oh, this is nothing, it gets worse.”

“You weren’t kidding. It’s 9 am.”

“Here, I made one for you.”

“Oh god, it’s my  _ favorite _ !” Amy squealed and sat by the kitchen island, admiring her bowl of blueberry smoothie. “Did you do groceries just for me?”

“Maybe I did,” you went to the sink to wash your own bowl. “How you spent the night?”

“At our made up bed? From our teenagehood? I almost cried of nostalgia - don’t you worry, this has a good meaning,” you laughed.

“I was talking to Ivar.”

“Really?” Amy said with a playful look.

“He said Ubbe’s being a pain in his ass - all he can talk about is you.”

“I told ya: predator side,” Amy got a big spoon of smoothie, filling her cheeks and looking like a squirrel.

“Ivar thought that maybe we all could do something tomorrow, before you leave.”

“Oh, that’s so nice of him. What will we do?”

“I have no idea.”

“You two could arrange a party.”

“Amy…” you reprimand her, not being completely serious.

“Hmm, what? Don’t you wanna party?” you give your best ‘don’t-wanna-party’ look. “A club then?” you continued to give her your ‘don’t-wanna-party’ look. “Oh, do whatever you wanna do,” she laughs. “Just arrange me a good night with Ubbe.”

“Will do,” you say raising your eyebrows and getting back to the sink.

“Plans for today?”

“What you wanna do?”

“I don’t know, it’s your town. What do you suggest we do?”

“I could show you around.”

“Then we go where I want to? Like old times?”

“Do I have to babysit you?”

“Always, honey,” you laugh and agree.

*

_ What do you suggest for us to do tomorrow? _ , you text Ivar in the middle of the afternoon.

You were waiting for Amy outside the store she had entered. One block driving in downtown was enough to make her go nuts and want to go shopping. You knew her enough to know that you didn’t want to enter in those stores with her - she always took very long, so you decide to appreciate the view.

And at some point you texted Ivar, but you knew he probably wouldn’t answer quickly, since he was helping his father out.

“Y/N!! You gotta come over here!” you hear Amy calling for you from inside the store. You enter. “What you think?” she asks, wearing a whole complete pack of a red lace lingerie.

“Wow…” you stutter. Red suited Amy very well, with all her dark colors, her hair, her eyes. It made her shine. “Are you planning on using that with Ubbe?”

“I’m planning on  _ using  _ that, no matter who. What do you think?” Amy spins.

“I think this is so gorgeous; you’re looking so gorgeous.”

With a big smile on her face, Amy changes to pay for her lingerie.

You two got out of the store holding each others arms, you helping Amy with her bags. You start to worry a little with your friend - you knew Amy enough to know that sometimes she got a little too much excited and lost control over things.

“Ames, aren’t you saving money for your own place?”

“Yep!” she responded happily, looking around.

“Are you supposed to spend that much on clothes? I mean, I’m not in place to tell you what you should do with your money, but… I’m concerned, and I want you to have your own things…”

“Y/N, turns out I’m very good with money. I… it’s not being easy, but I have two jobs, and I don’t spent a cent by living with my parents, so I can have one day of selfcare. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. Thanks for caring, but I’m good. Actually, I just used all the money that I was so supposed to with clothes, so we can walk around now,” Amy kissed you on your cheek.

*

You and Amy were laid down on the grass looking at the sky and trying to put the clouds into forms, just like you did when you two were kids when your phone rang at a message.

“I think it’s Ivar,” Amy said.

“You’re correct, as always,” you said after looking at your screen, seeing Ivar’s response.

“Aren’t you gonna answer?” Amy asked when you put the phone down.

“I can talk to him later. I’m with you, now, and you’re not always next door.”

“You’ll make me cry that way,” Amy said in a high tone, rolling on the grass to get closer to you and hug you - you and her were always that close. “I like it here,” she said holding your hand, looking up at the sky again. “It’s so calm, and beautiful. It’s a lovely little town.”

“Well, the only not so calm place is my neighbors’ house,” you two laughed.

“I still can’t believe the way you met Ivar,” your heart felt warmed at the sound of his name and you smiled a bit, looking at the blue sky.  _ I can’t believe it too _ , you thought. “You’re here for six months, living next door, and you had never seen any of them before.”

“Hey, in my defense, their mess and screams weren’t very welcoming,” Amy and you laughed.

“I know you so well. You denied to meet them until the last moment.”

“Actually I was still denying, but I was pushed into it.”

“I’m sure their father’s eyes made an effect on you that made you wanna go to their house.”

“Don’t you dare to start, Ames.”

“I think I might have a dad predator side.”

“Oh my god,” you cover your face with your hands, trying to hold your laugh. “He’s married.”

“The predator side don’t give a damn about that,” Amy said, messing with you. That was why she was born for, she used to say.  _ I was born to hunt you down and give you laughs until the doom of times _ .

“I’m seeing a sheep,” you change the subject.

“Y/N, I’m afraid to say that what you’re seeing is a cloud. All clouds look like sheeps.”

“I’m seeing a sheep,” you insist.

“I’m seeing a sheep too,” she goes with it.

*

Amy and your mom were preparing dinner, so you decide to jump in the couch and use that time to answer Ivar.

_ That depends on what Amy likes to do _ , Ivar had written.

_ Amy loves parties. Crazy parties. Heavy parties. _

It took precisely five minutes for Ivar’s answer to come.

_ Not your thing, I suppose? _

_ Nah. Yours? _

_ No way. Totally Hvitserk’s way, Ubbe too. _

_ She suggested a club. _

_ Do you like clubs? _

_ Nope. _

_ Me neither; I don’t think it’s a good idea to left your friend alone with my brother, since the plan it’s all four of us to do something together. _

_ I was thinking that maybe we could go to the movies, but that’s too cheesy. _

_ I like cheesy _ , this message past unseen to your eyes and you continued to type.

_ I thought that maybe we could do a barbecue, but… _

_ But…? _

_ But it would be rude to make a barbecue and invite only you and Ubbe. _

_ I think it’s super fair,  _ you laughed.

_ Of course you think that. _

_ Hvitserk wouldn’t go anyways, he decided to shave his other eyebrow _ , you laughed out loud, not being able to hold it.  _ Yeah, that meant I lost the bet with Ubbe, and I don’t think Sigurd would go, he’s Sigurd. Sometimes I wonder if the nurses didn’t picked the wrong baby and gave it to my parents _ , you laughed once again.

_ You are terrible, Ivar Lothbrok. _

_ ;) _

_ Can I let the barbecue at your and Ubbe’s hands? I’m not very good with it and you guys at the end would only eat ashes. _

_ It would be my pleasure to eat ashes made by you _ , you smiled.  _ Lucky yours that I happen to be a great cooker. _

_ Why do I have the impression that you told me that once? _ , you texted remembering the night when Ivar knocked on your door with a plate of brownies made by Aslaug.

_ Because it’s the truth, milady. Okay, be here with Amy by 7 pm. Let me and Ubbe take care of everything; he was the one who suggested it anyways, nothing more fair than that. _

_ Cool. _

_ Cool. _

You and Ivar went silent, both looking at your phone screens. It went like that for a couple of minutes before Ivar sent something.

_ Don’t forget to be out all day tomorrow, or you will see the preps for it and it wouldn’t be fun _ , you laugh.

_ What, are you planning something special? _

_ No, it’s just… I don’t want the magic of it being ruined. _

_ Okay okay, your magic will be untouched and unruined. _

_ Cool. _

You keep looking to Ivar’s message, smiling; you lock your phone.

*

**Ivar’s POV**

“ _ It all has to be perfect, you idiot _ !” Ivar screams at Ubbe.

“Gods, Ivar, everything you do to that girl has to be  _ perfect _ ,” Ubbe mocked his brother. “You’ll grow old that way, it will get you tired.”

“I don’t want her to have a bad impression of us.”

“As you always says, but that’s too late. She’s fond just of you, my brother,” Ubbe said while carrying a wooden table to the backyard with some difficult. Ivar blushed a little at Ubbe’s saying.

“You keep carrying the things while I’ll go and start to make the dessert.”

“Let mom do it, she said it’s okay.”

“ _ No _ ! I’ll do it. Our timing is perfect if everyone do their jobs well.”

Ivar then went to the kitchen, all prepared to do his ‘perfect ice cream pie’, as it was said in the recipe.

“You look like a Disney princess, Ivar, all worried about this girl and making pies.”

“And you look like an alien, but do I say that to you, Hvitserk?”

“Hey, I’m gonna find out who did that to me, okay? And I’m gonna have a comeback ten times worse.”

“Only ten?” Ivar asked while preparing the kitchen island. Hvitserk got a hand full of white flour and threw it at Ivar’s face, making him close his eyes and coff. Ivar took a deep breath before cleaning his face and went back to his work.

*

“Hvitserk, gimme a hand here!” Ubbe screamed over his brother.

“Yeah, sure,” they both moved the heavy wooden table. “So, what’s this all about?”

“Y/N and her friend. Me and Ivar went out with them on Friday night, at Sigurd’s concert. We’re dropping this before Amy goes back to her town.”

“Amy?”

“Y/N’s friend.”

“So you two…”

“Yeah, we had a great time at Bragr’s.”

“Brother?”

“Yeah?”

“She doesn’t live here.”

“I know.”

“You don’t know how to deal with this kind of thing.”

“I do.”

“Ubbe, no,” Hvitserk dropped his side of the wooden table, making Ubbe do the same. “I know you, bro. You’re gonna fall for this girl.”

“You’re only saying that because you want her.”

“How could I?, I never saw her.”

“You don’t need to, your dick can do that job for you very well,” Ubbe got the table back, making Hvitserk help him again. “How’s Margrethe, anyway?”

“We don’t see each other anymore.”

“Hm.”

“It’s not me who she loves.”

“Well, we didn’t work out together, so I guess that’s it.”

“Just… don’t be blind, Ubbe.”

“Got it.”

*

When you and Amy stepped at the Lothbroks’ backyard, Amy sighed.

“Wow… this looks so beautiful…”

The decoration was somewhat familiar to you - just like when your father went back home and he had a barbecue dropped for him; it was only missing the ‘welcome back’ balloons. The smell of barbecue was amazing and you saw Ivar at the griller, flipping hamburgers.

“Look who’s here!”, Ubbe shouted, coming closer, a bottle of beer in hands. “Welcome to our humble home, heart,” Ubbe said to Amy. “Always a pleasure seeing you, Y/N,” Ubbe hugged you, then went with Amy inside the house. “Let me show you around,” you heard him saying.

You look over at Ivar, who smiles at you. 

“I’m here,” you say to him.

“I’m glad, then,” Ivar places a hand in your cheek, his thumb making small circles in your skin while he kissed your other cheek, slowly, taking your breath out. You close your eyes at his touch and lips. He holds your chin, making you look up at him. You stare his eyes, shine dark blue at the night’s, moon’s light. He only smiles and goes back to his food.

“I thought that maybe me and Ubbe would be exchanging places here, but he’s too busy with Amy right now…”

“I can’t believe she’ll have sex with him  _ right now _ ,” Ivar lets out a laugh from down his throat.

“Gods, no. Ubbe is just showing her around, relax. His game isn’t that fast.”

“Oh, but Amy’s is,” Ivar chuckles.

“Trust me, Y/N. You don’t have to worry.”

A couple of minutes later Ubbe and Amy were back, and Amy had a bottle of beer in her hands.

“Their house is just so cool, Y/N!” you only nod your head at her.

“Yo Ivar, lemme take care of that now.”

“With pleasure,” Ivar goes to your side, letting Ubbe finish the meal. “Wanna drink anything?”

“Huh… yeah, okay.”

Ivar hands you a beer, taking one for him as well. You sip the bitter liquid, trying to not make a funny face.

When Ubbe served the food it was like magic: Hvitserk showed up at the backyard, a plate in hands. “I’m here just for the food!” he announces happily. You notice that he was wearing a baseball hat in order to hide his lack of eyebrow, or to switch the attention from it.

Ubbe and Ivar were messing with their brother, trying to make him go away, all three of them laughing. “Take that hat off, man!” you heard Ivar insisting, laughing. You saw his big smile, his white and pointy teeth. It didn’t matter how much they fought, it was obvious that they loved each other. Ubbe was in a failed attempt to take Hvitserk’s hat off.

Among all of that, you notice Amy looking at Hvitserk.

You knew that look.

And it wasn’t good.

Amy wasn’t the type of girl who easily fell for guys but, when it happened, it was a serious deal.

Hvitserk left looking at her, surprised at first but then amused.

Discreetly you step on her foot and she got the message.

As the night passed, Ubbe and Amy drank more and they excused themselves.

You kept drinking beers at a slow pace and Ivar was following you, but he definitely was drinking more than you. 

“Come here,” he said, reaching out for your hand. He was going to an enormous tree at the end of the backyard. “That’s our beloved one, right here. Father said it was already here, this big, when he bought the ground. You know I’m pagan, right?” you nod.

“You worship the norse gods. I saw in your house, and this,” you touch the little hammer hanging around his neck.

“Mjölnir, the hammer of Thor. Do you know about the Yggdrasil?”, you nod.

“Not much.”

“Yggdrasil is an immense ash tree that is the axis of the world. It’s located in the center of the universe and connects all the nine worlds.”

“That’s nice,” you say sweetly, smiling at him.

“It’s very holy, and that’s why we have so much things made of wood here; the old Norse Folk considered every wood sacred because of the Yggdrasil. But I’m not here to tell you about my Gods. I just… I just wanted you to know about it. This tree is very important to us,” Ivar sat near the tree, leaning his back against its trunk. “It’s our Yggdrasil. Come, sit here,” Ivar taps at his side.

You do so, very clumsy due to the beer.

“Here is the best spot,” Ivar says and you look up to the sky, to the tree’s branches, its leaves growing inchmeal as spring arrives slowly. You can see the dark sky between it, a couple of stars. You keep staring at the night sky until you shot:

“I’m so drunk right now,” you giggle, putting the half empty bottle of beer on the ground. Ivar laughs, drunk as well. “I drank only three beers while you drank what?, five?” Ivar laughs a little more.

“I drank eight, Y/N. I’m not sober, but I’m not even close to be drunk; I need much more to get like that.”

“Well, I’m not a  _ drinker _ ,” you laugh and Ivar follows you. You look up again at the dark sky being cut by the branches. You feel Ivar’s gaze on you, but you don’t give him attention.

“You’re so beautiful,” you hear him saying. You frown.

“That’s just the alcohol saying.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Yes, it is,” you smile at the sky.

“No, I mean, yes,” you laugh, confused.

“What?”

“I’m not saying that because I’m drunk, I’m saying that  _ exactly because I’m drunk _ ,” you look at Ivar, bursting out laughing. He had a serious expression on his face - the type of drunk-serious expression.

“Ivar, what the fuck?” you said laughing.

“The alcohol got me the balls to finally say that to you, that’s it. You are so beautiful, Y/N.”

“You are so beautiful too, Ivar,” you said, burying your face in his shoulder, you both looking to the night sky.

“I guess the word you’re looking for is ‘handsome’.”

“Maybe,” so after a pause you add: “You are so handsome, Ivar.”

Ivar’s hands search for yours, squeezing it slightly. “I’m so glad Sigurd left that day and all that big fight happened, otherwise I would have never met you,” you draw random lines on his knuckles.

“This is good. Here is good,” you said sleepy, getting closer to Ivar and burying more your face on his neck, where you fell asleep.


	7. Chapter 7

It was one week since Amy left and you were already feeling lonely. You haven’t seen Ivar either, even though you text each other all the time. He was super busy with his last projects before summer vacations hit and he could get some free time, since Floki was about to travel with his wife. He was finishing some essays as well as you helped him over the phone.

And that was the fun part, you thought: you live right beside each other, but sometimes it wouldn’t look like that at all. How are the chances to not see your neighbor, even from the window? Not that you actually tried to do that; you liked to play, not looking for him from your window, otherwise it wouldn’t be so fun. You thought that, maybe, if you see each other all the time, soon enough it would get boring and… and well, it would end.

And do you wanted that? Of course not, but that was your opinion and you had no idea what Ivar’s thoughts were.

You tried to do something different that morning - you tried to call him.

He wasn’t picking.

It was being quite a pain in the ass when your classes were already finished and he still had his - plus his intern.

You waited patiently. Noon arrived - and nothing.

_ How are things doing? _ , you texted him, but still nothing.

In the afternoon you were bored, bored and more bored. You missed that sweet and constant presence of Amy and you really wanted to see Ivar - you were already missing all his features, manners, voice, laugh, every little detail, and audios and phone calls and his profile picture weren’t doing any justice as he was in person.

And that’s why that you, finally, had the guts to knock on his door - without a plate of brownies, but you hoped that your cutest blouse and smile would do.

Aslaug answered.

“Hi Y/N, what can I do for you?”

“Hey Aslaug, is… is Ivar home?”

“Ivar? Oh… no, he… Ubbe drove him to the doctor, he had an appointment.”

“An appointment? Is everything alright?”

“Yes, everything’s fine,” she waved her hand. “It wasn’t a scheduled appointment, but everything’s fine. Do you want to come inside and wait for him?” She cracked more the door open, but you shook your head.

“No, thank you, actually… I think I’ll wait here. Air’s good.”

“You could wait at the backyard.”

“Here’s fine, thank you, Mrs. Lothbrok.”

Aslaug gave you a sweet smile and gently closed the door.

An appointment with the doctor. That wasn’t an uncommon thing for Ivar, given his legs’ situation, but you still were worried. What if something serious happened? Aslaug even said that it wasn’t a scheduled appointment, so something probably happened.

You sat on the doorsteps, hugging your knees while scrolling your phone, looking for something to pass the time. You found a paper on Shakespeare that got your attention, and so you went for it.

*

Two hours had passed when you heard a car approaching. It was a dark silver SUV, and it parked in front of the house. You bit your lips. Ubbe got out of the driver side and waved at you, all smiles. He went for the car trunk and got from there a wheelchair.  Your heart stopped briefly before pounding against your chest.

You didn’t know Ivar for so long, okay, but during that time you never saw him in a wheelchair, so you didn’t know if it was a normal thing or if something bad had happened. You couldn’t see Ivar inside the car and you didn’t want him to see the expression on your face, but you couldn’t hide it. Ubbe, before opening the passenger door, showed you a thumbs up, probably wanting to tell you that everything was okay. You took a deep breath and tried not to look at Ivar as he was helped by Ubbe to sit on the wheelchair. You saw that he was standing and moving his legs towards the wheelchair, so you got that as a good sign. He grunted.

“God _ damnit _ .”

“Sorry, lil’ bro.”

You looked at Ivar.

And you couldn’t tell his expression. He was unreadable. As he was coming closer his features changed from unreadable to a sweet smile, filling those plump lips of him.

“Hey Y/N, I saw you called but my phone died,” you waved your hand dismissively. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, I was just… super bored and… and then I came here but you weren’t…”

“I was at the doc.”

“Your mom told me,”  _ don’t ask if he’s okay, don’t ask if everything’s alright, just don’t ask _ . “So, is everything…?” Ivar raised an eyebrow. “Do you want to… I don’t know, hang?” He laughed airly.

“Hang? Yeah, alright, bored girl. Let me just change, okay? Meet me at the backyard.”

You bit your lips and nodded.

“Hey,” Ubbe whispered at you. “If he says anything that’s… that doesn’t sound good, just don’t listen to him, okay? Experience, trust me.”

*

Before Ivar could come down to the backyard, you heard a noise of something breaking. You couldn’t tell if it was Aslaug or Ubbe at the kitchen or if the owner of the breaking was Ivar.

You were finishing to read that Shakespeare paper when he arrived.

“Whatcha reading there?”

You were sat by the big tree, the one that Ivar told you the Yggdrasil story, and he put himself right beside you, near the big roots.

“It’s just a paper on Shakespeare that I found - nothing big, pretty simple.”

“So you like Shakespeare?” You nodded. “How come I never knew that?” He said with half a smile, tilting his head. You shrugged.

“I don’t think that the subject ever came up.”

“But a lot of subjects came up.”

“Just not Shakespeare.”

“Just not him, yes,” Ivar took a deep breath and looked up at the sky. “I wish it was autumn,” he said closing his eyes as he felt the sunburn in his skin.

“Why’s that?”

“The leaves are prettier in autumn. Not that I like autumn or winter - I don’t. It’s too cold and this is bad for my bones, my legs hurt a lot. But I wish it was autumn.”

“You look like a cold person,” you said innocently. 

“A  _ cold  _ person?” You could see a cocky smile growing on his lips. “But not a  _ hot  _ person?”

“What?” You said laughing at his silly face.

“Tell me, Y/N, that you don’t find me a hot person.”

“It’s not what I meant,” you said between laughs.

“Oh, it not what you meant?” He raised his eyebrows. “So explain to me why I’m not a hot person, but a cold person.”

“Oh god,” you covered your face. “It’s not what I meant, Ivar, it’s not… You just look like someone who enjoys the cold weather more than the hot one.”

“Why would someone who’s hot enjoy a cold weather? It wouldn’t work,” he said with a thinking tone and an expression of someone who’s trying to discover a new formula.

“Oh, shut up,” you said laughing and he laughed back. You were staring at each other as silence took place.

“I have to tell you something,” he said seriously. You nodded. “What happened today… It’s nothing, okay? I know you never saw me in a wheelchair before, but it’s only because I try to make a lot of effort to not use it around you. Me and this asshole,” he tapped his wheelchair “we’re very known friends. Being summer I thought that maybe my legs wouldn’t hurt that much, but today was an exception. I woke up in so much pain, I had to go see the doctor, it wasn’t normal.”

“If it wasn’t normal, how come it’s nothing?” You asked lowly.

“It’s just a normal pain, probably hit me because I’m too tired and working too much, I don’t know. But it’s nothing, Y/N, there’s nothing for you to worry about.”

“Okay,” you got closer to him.

“But it will always be like that.” You frowned at him, not completely understanding what he meant. “ _ I _ … will always be like that. There’s no getting better, only getting worse or being stuck. I’ll never get better, Y/N. My legs will always be like that - some days working, not at its fully, and sometimes I will need my crutch, or my cane, or even my wheelchair. And those will be the most days. The days when I walk freely? Those are rare.”

“I’m not quite following where you want to get, Ivar,” you were searching his face, trying to find any hint.

“It’s not that I’m a grenade,” he closed his eyes. “But I’ll always be stuck, and I don’t know where we gonna get, you and me. I’ll never be able to spin you around, high up the sky, or to climb trees with you, or to practice any stupid sports together; I’ll never be able to run with you, to bike with you, anything,” he bit his lips. “We wouldn’t be a normal couple.”

“Who said so?” You said gently, getting his hand on your own while you sat on your ankles to level the height. He opened his eyes to find yours. “What makes you think that I want to be spun around up the sky or to climb trees? I’m terrified of height. Who told you that I wanna practice stupid sports with you if, well, you said it already: they’re stupid? I don’t like to run and I don’t even know how to ride a bicycle,” Ivar frowned.

“You don’t know how to ride a bike?” You laughed.

“Okay, that one was a lie. But who said, Ivar Lothbrok, that we’re not going to be a normal couple? What is a normal couple, actually? Do you want to be one? One normal boring couple?” He looked down the grass, shyly.

“No,” he murmured.

“Me neither. And I don’t know as much as you where we heading from here, but one thing I know: there is nothing, Ivar, nothing… that will make me give up. I just like you a lot, Ivar Lothbrok. What can I do?” You shrugged. “And so what that your legs aren’t perfect? You remain to be yourself, and that’s the Ivar I like.”

You could see his chest going up and down, you could hear his breath. His lips were slightly open and all you wanted was to lock yours on his.

“If you think that your legs are a problem, and if you think that I think that, then don’t you think that I wouldn’t have already dumped your ass and run to your eyebrowless brother’s arms?” Ivar laughed, closing his eyes.

“Oh Gods, you didn’t say that.”

“I did.”

“You just ruined the whole thing.”

“The whole thing?”

“Yeah, the whole thing.”

“Oh boy,” you said in a whining mocking tone.

“I really want to kiss you, Y/N,” Ivar said.

“Okay.”

You leaned towards him, slowly. The tip of your noses touched, Ivar brushing his against yours. Your lips touched and he pecked yours gently, holding your cheek. He pulled you to him, making you sit on his lap to level the height.

“Your legs,” you said against his lips.

“You could never hurt them,” he helped you to adjust yourself on top of him.

His hands were firmly gripping your waist as your fingers were tangled on his long and loose hair.

You missed this.

You missed his lips.

You missed his tongue.

You missed his kiss.

You missed his hands.

You missed his touch.

You missed Ivar.

One week and you already missed him.

You two broke apart to catch some air.

“Are you sure your legs are okay?” You asked him. He nodded. “I just missed this, you know?”

“You did?” You nodded. “Well, next week we’ll have the whole summer to work on that. I even dare to say that you’ll be bored,” you laughed.

“You could never bore me.”

“Never?”

“Never.”

“Never say never, Y/L/N. But really, it’s not you, I promise to all the Gods, my legs were already hurting, so…”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” you got out of his lap quickly. “I’m so sorry, Ivar.”

“That’s okay, it wasn’t your fault. What do you tell me about some boring movies?”

“Boring movies? My favorite,” you said smiling.

You and Ivar headed inside the house to the TV room, where not only you two watched boring movies, but Ubbe tagged along as well.

You couldn’t say that you three “watched movies”, so much Ubbe was talking about Amy. You smiled at his sweetness and raised an eyebrow to Ivar. You talked with him about it.  _ Someone has to tell him _ . Ubbe was falling pretty hard for Amy while she… well, while she wasn’t, simple as this.

Every time Ubbe left to grab some snacks, you and Ivar kept a strong eye contact game, until Ubbe came back and someone had to break it, which was always you.

You slept good that night, dreaming about Ivar and his lips.


	8. Chapter 8

A couple of days later, you receive a text from Ivar.

Of course that it wasn’t his first text after that day when you met him after his doctor appointment. 

But it was a text that made your heart jump. 

_ Here’s the thing: I really wanna go out with you today but for that to happen I gotta delivery some projects first. U think we can put those two things together? _

He was direct, not wasting time on calling you some sweet name (like he did sometimes) or with some chit chat. He went straight up to what he wanted, and that lightened something inside of you. 

Before you could answer, he already sent another text.

_ After I deliver those projects my summer will finally begin and I want it to be with you - by the time I’m free of those things I wanna be with you at some nice place doing something nice. Gotta no time to waist. _

_ After all, summer’s short _ , you text him back immediately. You think about how he put the word “we” in “ _ think we can put those things together? _ ” and your heart skipped a little bit more.

We.

You and Ivar.

_ It’s gonna be the longest summer, darling. _

You bit your lips.  _ Darling _ .

_ When are you leaving to hand those projects? _

_ Around 1 pm. Be ready, I’ll knock. _

You smiled and you felt like you didn’t have to answer to that, like if Ivar knew that you were smiling and that was some sort of “okay”.

*

By the time you were putting your dress on, a lightweight fabric of yellow, Ivar knocked at your door. 

“Shit,” you mumble to yourself. You took more time than planned on the makeup, not being able to decide what to do.  _ Should I put mascara? Or not? What about blush? Lipstick or gloss? _ You couldn’t decide, and that took more time than the makeup itself, which ended up being only mascara and gloss. You wanted to feel good with yourself and not wear too much - that was your daily makeup, on days that you actually put it on.

You ran downstairs, grabbing your shoes on the way. You put the right one and opened the door.

Ivar was wearing pants that its fabric didn’t look too hot, but the fact that he was wearing them already made you sweat. It was starting to get really hot, how could he wear that? His T-shirt was tight on his muscles, making all of them show up to you. You had to hold your deep breath.

He raised an eyebrow at you, then looking down at your feet, a hint of a smile on his lips.

“Oh,  _ right _ ,” you laugh and put your other shoe on. “I’m ready,” you tell him while grabbing your little purse and locking the door.

“Where are your parents? I thought that they might open the door.”

“Groceries. Where are your projects?”

“At the car,” he pointed with his thumb to the black Sedan behind him. You thought that you held a surprise look on your face, because Ivar said: “What?, did you really think that we would walk all the way in this hot weather? Maybe when we get to our destiny, but not all over the way downtown.”

Yeah, you actually thought that maybe you two would walk all the way - even because you had no idea where Ivar would hand his work and because you were used to walk and take the bus.

But you had no idea that he actually had a driver license.

You wanted to make a joke of that so you could ease yourself up a little, but you were scared to hurt his feelings, so you asked: “Is this car yours?”

“Yeah, that’s my girl. I got her when I was 16 and cannot give it away. It’s not even my type of car, but… it has its meaning.” You smiled at that.

“Maybe one day I’ll know what she means to you,” you said gently.

“You’re not jealous, are you, Y/N?” Ivar said with a cocky smirk while opening the door for you. You gave his smirk back at him as you entered the car.

“Wow, a real gentleman…” you heard him laughing as he closed the door. You saw that he was limping a little.

“First stop,” he said when he got in the car. “Get rid of the work.”

“And the next stop?” You asked smiling.

“Where the summer begins,” he looked into your eyes and smiled at you. You thought that maybe he would kiss you, but that didn’t happen. You took a look at the back seat of the car to see a whole bunch of rolled papers.

“ _ Wow _ , that’s a lot of work! When you told me that you’re busy with all of this, I didn’t imagine that it could be so much! I knew that it was a lot, but not… this…” you were surprised.

“Floki has a new idea and I kept working on that… half of what’s there are some ideas that can fit his own. To improve it, I don’t know.”

“You do deserve a longer summer,” you said distracted. 

“So do you,” but you didn’t pay attention to that.

*

You were waiting inside the car while Ivar went upstairs the tall and glassy building with his arms full of projects. Even if it wasn’t hot or too far, you guessed that you could never go walking. You took the freedom to grab your phone from your purse and connect it to Ivar’s radio. You let your music playing in a low volume, humming along.

He opened the door to find you singing in a low tone.

“Hey, there.”

“Oh, oh, hi,” he caught you off guard, making you drop your phone and blush.

“I see you made yourself comfortable there,” he was already leaving the parking lot.

“Sorry.”

He didn’t say a word and, after he turned the volume up, you saw him smiling.

“I have no idea what you’re listening to, but I like it.”

You smiled and looked out the window. You were too shy to sing along but, inside your head and your body, you felt as loud as the music.

*

“I think I’ll call that the first stop of our next stop,” Ivar said stopping the car at the park. “What about some ice cream?” He asked smiling. 

“You just read my mind; why are we wasting time?” You quickly got out of the car, waiting for Ivar. He stood at your side, offering you his hand to held. Your lips opened a little in surprise - you didn’t remember holding hands with Ivar. Well, at least not like this. On your first date, if that could be called a date (which you did like to call it) you two held hands at the dark of the café, but that was different.

Here you would walk holding hands.

Showing to everyone that you were together. As a couple.

Or something leading to that.

Walking to the ice cream shop, Ivar said: “I still haven’t said how beautiful you look today. But not only today, everyday actually, but today I still haven’t said it. Or… any day…” he scratches the back of his head. “Shit, that came out wrong.”

You were smiling at his embarrassed way, how quickly he got lost in his words.

“I give you a new chance to express yourself better, Lothbrok,” you said holding a laugh.

“Hey, don’t laugh, ain’t fair,” he passed his hand through his hair, which was in a man bun. “I ruined the whole thing.”

“You didn’t.”

“I just wanted to say that everyday you look beautiful because you  _ are  _ beautiful, and you look beautiful today. Just like every other day. I also liked very much your dress,” he said looking at you head to toes. You giggled.

“Thanks,” you squeezed his hand and kissed his cheek, slowly and gently.

You wished that Ivar couldn’t tell how you felt, because inside you were just a happy mess, like if all of yours cells were partying, very drunk. You were with the stars, heart pounding, happiness running through your veins.

You were in love.

After you two ordered your ice creams, Ivar led the way. Sometimes he had to pull or push you here or there, because you had no idea where you were going and you didn’t quite follow Ivar’s movements. 

You were at the park, but going somewhere there that you’ve never been before. 

“Okay, we’ll have to crawl here,” Ivar said.

“What?”

“Here,” he pointed to a bush.

“There’s no way to crawl there, Ivar.”

“Of course there is,” he said playful and pulled the bush up, the leaves and branches expanding to show a rabbit hole just like in the Disney movie. “Here, hold it please,” he gave you his ice cream. “I’ll go first, then you.”

You couldn’t ignore the fact that you were kinda worried about Ivar’s legs, his knees. You saw that he was taking care of it, while trying not to be obvious. “The branches can scratch a little, but it doesn’t hurt; it’s very soft.”

“Okay.”

Ivar’s hands appeared to grab the two ice creams so you could crawl.

“How won’t you let our ice creams fall on the ground?”

“Y/N, you forget that I deal with pencils and stuff. My hands are very good and secure.”

_ My hands are very good and secure _ . You tried not to think too much about that and started crawling through and under the bush.

“Hi there,” Ivar said giggling when he saw your head. 

Once you passed you sat on the grass and took a look around. In front of you had a passage through trees, a tunnel of flowers. You could only see pieces of the blue sky cut by the branches. Ahead the tunnel you couldn’t see much because of the strong sunlight. 

“Out of words?” Ivar asked. You nodded. “It got me like that too when I first found it.”

You couldn’t stop thinking about  _ when  _ he first found it. With another girl? Alone? Did he bring every girl here too? You decided to stay silent, to just enjoy the view. You took your ice cream from Ivar’s hand.

“Ladies first,” he said when you got up, gesturing towards the path. You walked under the flowers, looking up at them. They were yellow, pink, white. All the leaves had a different ton of green. The noise of cracking branches and leaves under your feet. Ivar kept talking behind you. “When it got worse I had to get a wheelchair, and wasn’t very happy about it. That was making me feel miserable. I was the different kid at school. Everyone looked at me, with pity in their eyes. I had to stop playing, running, swimming. And I was stuck in a wheelchair.” You were walking slowly, dividing your attention to Ivar and to that place. “I refused to use that thing out of school. At home I would crawl everywhere. I didn’t care, all I wanted was to not use that thing. I was 14 years old. One day Ubbe dragged me with him to downtown, just close to this park, while he did some things. I didn’t want to be with him, so I started walking around. Well, ‘walking’,” he laughed a little at his memory. “I got just near where we crawled through that bush when I saw a dragonfly. It was flying around me, and I wanted to get it, but it was a little higher than me, sat down on the wheelchair, so I had to stand up on my feet. I did that. I did that and started following the dragonfly - I remember how much my legs started to hurt. Until they couldn’t support my weight anymore and I fell. That made me so angry, it showed that I couldn’t walk anymore, and maybe never again. I started crawling, not having a specific destiny. So I noticed something curious in that bush, and… and I found this. I found this incredible place on a day and a situation that I was on my worst. Since then it was always my safe place. Now it can be yours too.”

“Mine?”

“Yeah.”

“So you never showed it before to anyone else?”

“Never.”

You stopped at the end of the path, where it opened to a little lake. There were some animals, and the sun reflected on the water. You felt Ivar stopping right behind you, close enough so you could feel his presence so close to you.

You felt something cold dripping on your breast - when you looked down you saw that it was your ice cream.

“Crap,” you mumbled, trying to clean it. Ivar was laughing, amused. “It got on my bra too, I can’t believe it.”

“I could clean it for you,” he said in a suggestive tone.

“No you couldn’t,” you said blushing, not wanting to fill your mind with those thoughts.

After you’ve cleaned yourself, you and Ivar got a spot under a shadow to sit on the grass and look at the lake.

“It’s so calm here,” you whisper, not wanting to make noise.

“It was the calm after my own storm.”

“It means a lot, you know that?”

“What?”

“It means a lot the fact that you showed me this place.”

“It means how important you are to me. How much I like you. You make me feel different, a way that I’ve never felt before. I like you that much, Y/N.”

Ivar was leaning towards you, and you moved with him, closing your eyes. The tip of his nose touched yours and you held your breath. Your foreheads touched. His fingers started trailing your arms to your shoulders, to the crook of your neck and then to your cheek, holding your face with both of his hands. You could feel his breath.

You grabbed his wrists, placing your hands on top of his, so you could feel them.

His hands are rough, the type of hands that you could never, ever imagine that could make such gentle movements, touches. But Ivar was an artist, of course his hands could perform such things. 

And maybe  _ other  _ things.

You took a deep breath at the thought of his hands running through your body.

_ How hot his skin is _ , you thought.

You felt Ivar’s soft lips slightly touching yours, just a peck of a kiss. A hint. Both of your lips stayed like this for what felt like the longest time, until you opened your lips for him.

As his tongue touched yours, your hands trailed to the muscles of his arms, its hardness under your touch, his hot and smooth skin. You free his hair from the man bun, gripping it hard. Ivar lifted you and put you on his lap.

He kissed your lips, your nose, your ears, your neck.

He bit your lower lip, making a moan left from you and, at that, he gripped hard your hips, which made you move them on top of him. He groaned under his breath, hardening the grip on your hips and pushing you a little, breaking the kiss. He was breathing hard.

“Are you okay?” You asked him. He nodded, his eyes closed and mouth open. “Is it your legs?, am I hurting you?” You touched his legs.

“I’m fine, it’s not my legs. I just… I needed to breath,” he said with an airy laugh. You didn’t know why Ivar pushed you back a little and you weren’t paying attention, but the reason why he broke the kiss and the distance was because of the growing bulge. Always when he was with you and he kissed you, he tried his hard ass for that not to happen, but sometimes he couldn’t control it.

And that was one of them.

“You are amazing, you know that, right?” Ivar said, shining eyes.

Even though you were under the shadow, you could see sparkles of the sun on Ivar’s eyes, yellow swimming on blue.

“Hey,” you protested when something landed on the tip of your nose.

“It’s a ladybug,” Ivar said laughing. “Wait, no no no, don’t scare it away, you look adorable, just… hold still,” Ivar got his phone and took a photo of you.

You always were a shy person but, somehow, at that moment, you didn’t care about being in front of a camera. You didn’t care about how you would look, because it didn’t matter.

“Wanna see it?” Ivar asked. You nodded. “No?” He sounded surprised.

“No. Do you know how to skip stones?”

“If I know? I’m the best of my brothers.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“So I guess I’ll have the best teacher, then.”

“Guess so,” Ivar took some impulse to stand up. “There are some stones on the riverbank.”

You ran first and took a hand full of little stones, showing them to Ivar.

“It has to be the perfect stone. Here, this one. Every stone that looks like this,” you started separating them, making a pile on the ground. “You grab it like this and twist your wrist like this. You need the perfect speed, rotation and angle. It needs practice.”

You tried the first time. The stone sank in the water. You tried the second time. No success.

“Here,” Ivar got behind you, his left hand on yours.

“Are you left handed?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m right.”

“Oh. Okay, so… I’ll show you with the left hand and you try with your right hand. Here. Your fingers go like that and… when you throw it, you’ll make this movement.”

The stone flew from your hand, skipping so much that at some point it just got lost.

“Hey, you’re good!” You said looking at him.

“Told ya,” he winked an eye at you. “Your turn.”

You did with your right hand what Ivar showed you with your left. Your stone skipped two times. You looked at him with a big smile, like a child would look at its mother after doing something marvelous.

“Need some practice, just like I said.”

“Maybe one day I’ll be even better than you,” your shoulder pushed him aside.

“ _ What _ ? No way, I doubt it,” he said playful.

“The greater the teacher is, the greater the pupil will be.”

“Even greater than the teacher?”

“Even greater than the teacher.”

“I’m waiting for that.”

You kissed the tip of his nose on your tip toes. “I’m gonna take my shoes off.”

“That’s a good idea.”

Ivar was bare feet, his pants rolled up to his calf, skipping stones. You could see almost all of his back muscles under his tee and they working as he threw the stones. You decided that was your time to take a photo.

Your first photo of him.

“ _ Hey _ !” You heard him calling for you while you appreciated the photo. “The pupil will never be greater than the teacher if she keeps looking at her phone! Drag your lazy ass over here!” You laughed.

“I’m not lazy,” you joked.

“Oh no?”

“No. It was just a picture.”

“A picture?” You nodded. “Of me?”

“No,” you said.

“Okay,” Ivar didn’t sound convinced. 

*

The day ended with you sat on Ivar’s lap, snuggled although the hot weather, looking at the sunset. His arms were hugging you by your waist, yours on top of his, hugging him back. Your legs were tangled with each other. His chin was resting on the crook of your neck.

“I like it here,” you told him.

“We can come more times.”

“I thought that this was already implied,” you felt Ivar smiling.

You thought that a day couldn’t end more perfect than this.

But so did you think that that night at the café.

And that night at his house when Amy was here.

But for now, you thought that a day couldn’t end more perfect than this.

You snuggled on Ivar’s lap, being so close to him, with the sunset at the lake, the grasshoppers singing and the dragonflies flying all around. The ducks going to their way, the birds singing too. 

You didn’t want to look away, and no camera could make justice to that view, but even so you closed your eyes and took that view to your mind, so later you could paint it. 

You could feel the chill air coming and the hot air leaving. The sun leaving and the moon coming with its stars.

“The stars will always guide us home,” you whispered.

“What?”

“Nothing. I think the vikings probably said that at some point. Your ancestors.” You were playing with Ivar’s arm ring. He smiled at the fact that you remembered what he told you once, under the tree of his house. He kissed your cheek.

And again you thought that a day couldn’t end more perfect than this.


End file.
